THE HUNTER HUNTED. 



J. J. BUSH. 



Four of us had been a week camping 

 in the mountains and having a good time 

 generally. One day we camped in a 

 quiet green valley and turned our tired 

 horses loose to graze. After dinner the 

 Major proposed that he and I hunt 

 through some canyons which ran in from 

 the hills near by. I at once consented, and 

 we started. We kept together for half a 

 mile or so; then we separated, he going 

 up one canyon and I up another. Pres- 

 ently I heard several shots from the direc- 

 tion taken by the Major. Mentally credit- 

 ing him with a blacktail, I went on over 

 the ridge and down into another canyon. 



The mountain tops shut out the rays 

 of the declining sun and made a gloomy 

 twilight in the depths of the gulch I was 

 traversing. This is the place for bear, I 

 thought, as I hurried forward. I heard 

 a peculiar sound to my right and another 

 noise farther down. Pretty soon a small 



cub appeared, not 10 steps ahead. Seeing 

 me coming, he made for a tree, but I got 

 him by the ears before he was beyond 

 reach. The little beast squalled loudly, 

 and instantly his mother same charging 

 like a whirlwind through the shrubbery 

 to the rescue. A glance told me I had a 

 big cinnamon to reckon with. I dropped 

 the cub, threw my rifle to my face and 

 fired. The shot checked her for a mo- 

 ment; then she came on again, making a 

 slight turn to avoid a rock in her way. 

 As she turned I planted a fatal bullet be- 

 hind her shoulder — just in time, too, for 

 another bear was making the stones fly 

 as he came down behind me. I fired hur- 

 riedly, but the shot was evidently good 

 enough for the newcomer, for, with a roar, 

 he turned and disappeared. 



It was fast growing dark and I did not 

 follow him, but pushed on to camp. 



THE REAL THING. 



M. P. DUNHAM. 



A saloonkeeper in this town had a severe 

 fright recently. No one being dry just at 

 that moment he was alone in his place and 

 sat oppposite the bar, reading. Chancing 

 to lift a corner of his eye, he caught a 

 glimpse of a great snake sliding over the 

 tops of a row of whiskey barrels. He 

 dropped his paper, sprang to his feet, and 

 stared at the barrels. No snake was to be 

 seen. The man knew the potency of his 

 goods and that there was no time to lose. 

 He rushed bareheaded into an adjoining 

 store, crying, 



"I've got 'em, Luke; I've got 'em bad! 

 Come an' stay with me till I can get a 

 doctor." 



When Luke had listened to the victim's 

 description of his symptoms he said, 



"Mebbe it was a sure enough snake you 

 saw; let's go back an' look." 



Back they went, moved the barrels and 

 searched high and low. No snake could 

 they find. By that time great beads of 

 sweat were rolling down the saloon- 

 keeper's face. He sank down on a box 

 in the corner and moaned, "I knew I 

 had 'em; I told you so." Just then a 

 snake put its head around the corner of 

 the box. The patient shuddered. "I knew 

 it!" he screamed. "For Gawd's sake 



gimme some bromide and run like 



for the doctor!" 



Not until Luke had killed the snake and 

 dangled it before his friend's eyes would 

 he believe it was not a genuine case of 

 D. T. Then he promised Luke a skinful 

 of the best in the house if he wouldn't tell 

 the boys. 



"What time will you be home, dear?" 

 asked the young wife as her husband 

 started down town after breakfast. 



"Oh, about i t. m., I guess," was the 

 reply. 



"You mean i p. m., don't you?" she 

 asked. 



"No," replied the heartless wretch, "I 

 mean just what I said — i t. m. — to-mor 

 row; see?" — Exchange. 

 38 



