A BEAR AND A CARIBOU. 



GREENHORN. 



In Juh', 'gr;, 4 of us were camped on 

 German creek, a tributary of Twelve Mile 



river, which joins the Yukon 18 miles be- 

 low Dawson. We were prospecting some 

 placer ground, which had been staked the 

 winter before Not having had any fresh 

 meat since April, 2 of us went hunting. 

 About half a mile up stream we separated, 

 one taking each side of a gulch. 



I struck a moose trail; not the fresh 

 track of an individual, but a regular high- 

 way, made and used by moose and caribou. 



Every part of the Yukon country that I 

 saw is full of these trails or runways. In 

 some places, as, for instance, a low point in 

 a divide between 2 creeks, the trail is over 

 4 feet wide, bare of moss and well beaten. 

 In such crossings one can nearly always 

 find good sized holes which the animals 

 evidently make by pawing. There is a 

 trail on the top of every ridge and in every 

 creek bottom, in moose country; with cress 

 trails from gulch to gulch at convenient 

 places. They invariably follow the best 

 ground, avoiding stony places and hum- 

 mocks. Along a ridge, the best traveling 

 is alwavs on the moose trail. The trails 

 in the bottoms are not so good. 



On the day in question, I reached a point 

 near the rendezvous without seeing game, 

 and sat down where I had a good outlook, 

 and could intercept my companion. After 

 a w T hile, a spot of brown, about half a mile 

 up the gulch, caught my eye. Presently I 

 saw it was a brown bear almost as big as a 

 fat steer. My hair rose and chills chased 

 up and down my back, for it was the first 

 bear I had ever seen at large. 



Bruin w r as cautiously nosing about in the 

 high grass, continually stopping to look 

 around. As soon as I got over my ner- 

 vousness, I began to want a bear, and con- 

 cluded I could safely gratify desire as I 

 had a .30-30 Winchester carbine, and 

 about 15 cartridges with soft point bul- 

 lets. 



The bear w*as in the bottom of the gulch 

 above timber line, and from where I was 

 sitting it was impossible to approach him 

 unseen. 



I slipped around a rock out of his sight, 

 and went down hill to where the trees were 

 thicker. There I crossed the gulch, and 

 finally came out on the ridge directly oppo- 

 site him, perhaps 150 yards distant, and 

 down wind. However, I could not see 

 into the gulch on account of the rounding 

 of the hill side. I spent about 30 minutes 

 dodging around, trying to see my game, 



and at last thought he had heard me and 

 gone. 



1 went up stream about 200 yards and 

 descended into the gulch. Then 1 moved 

 down stream without making any noise, 

 and turned the corners with exceeding 

 care. Presently I came on the bear, with 

 his head in the grass, and fired so quickly 

 he gave no sign of having seen me. For a 

 few seconds 1 could not see him either, for 

 the reccil jabbed the long sight into my 

 eye. if the bear had been a bad one, I 

 should have been easy meat for him, asmy 

 right eye was in such pain that tears 

 blinded the other. The shot landed where 

 it was aimed, however, half way between 

 the eye and the ear, and he sank on his 

 belly and died. 



He turned oat to be a female, and small 

 at that; perhaps 150 pounds in weight. 

 I never could understand what made him 

 shrink so. There was no other bear with 

 him; the tracks proved that. A good 

 many big bears that get away would prob- 

 ably pan out on the same scale, if they 

 could be stopped. 



My partner came up soon after, and we 

 skinned the little bear and packed the 

 meat to camp. It was skookum muck-a- 

 muck (good food). However, we did not 

 relish it so much after a few days, so we 

 decided to take another hunting trip. 

 Jack, who had helped me pack in the bear 

 meat, would not go, nor would Tom; so 

 George and I set forth. He also had a 

 "Winchester .30-30 with about 6 inches 

 longer barrel than my carbine. 



We climbed the mountain together, and 

 took lunch in a sheltered spot. Near us 

 a colony of marmots whistled their sus- 

 picions of our appearance, and the smell of 

 our cooking. I was surprised to see them 

 so far North, 65 . George shot one, to 

 make sure, and as far as I was able to 

 judge it was the same old soft, innocent 

 looking, fat little Colorado prairie dog with 

 the jerky tail. It must have been a chilly 

 life "for them, because, while the ridge on 

 which we were lunching was practically 

 bare, there were several small glaciers 

 in shady places. The altitude must have 

 been 7,000 feet or more. 



After lunch we met our first ptarmigan, 

 and I got him. Others kept bobbing up in 

 front of us all day, often with young ones 

 just able to fly. One hen, in trying to take 

 my attention from her brood, permitted 

 me to get so close that I tried to kill her 

 with the butt of my carbine. We shot 5 only, 



415 



