450 
SMOKING OUT A BEAR 
Dear Forest and Stream : 
1 WAS living in Alberta near the Roeky 
Mountains, and after a rest of two 
weeks from hunting goats and big horn 
sheep I decided to go back into the 
mountains again to try for deer. I told 
my plans to a friend and he did not take 
much persuading to say he would go 
with me. So the next day we hooked 
up tw’o cayuses to his delivery wagon 
and, provided wdth tent, rifles and grub 
for a week, we drove into the mountains. 
We made camp among the trees beside a 
creek which w'e named Red Rock Creek 
owing to the color of the rocks. 
The next day, though deer hunting 
season did not open until November 1st, 
we walked down the valley to the South 
to look for signs of deer but found none. 
Hunting was made more difficult as no 
snow w'as lying in the valleys or on the 
lower slopes of the mountains. On No- 
vember 1st in the gray dawn we crossed 
the creek near our camp and, striking 
an old trappers’ trail, headed north up 
the mountain. When about half way up 
we examined the opposite side of the 
valley with our glasses and saw a fine 
buck walking down the mountain side in 
the direction of our tent. When he got 
within about two hundred yards of it 
he must have got wind of something 
unusual, or heard our horses which were 
picketted near the tent, as he came to a 
sudden standstill and then turned and 
ran up the mountain as though followed 
by hounds, stopping for a second every 
few yards to look back. 
Resuming our ascent, in another hour 
we reached the top and proceeded cau- 
tiously along the ridge. We kept cross- 
ing from side to side of the ridge, which 
was about fifty feet wide, to look down 
on either side. At last I saw a black 
Lear a quarter of a mile ahead down 
the western slope on the edge above the 
timber line. 
We watched him for some time with 
our glasses; he appeared to be very 
Imsily occupied running backwards and 
forwards between a scrub jack pine and 
what looked like a big boulder sticking 
out from the slide rock. We made a 
straight line for him, taking what cover 
we could, and when within about a hun- 
dred and fifty yards, crept noiselessly 
over a rocky bluff, expecting to see our 
bear within range. No bear in sight 
anywhere ! We went to the spot where 
we had seen him last, and found in- 
numerable tracks on the fine slide rock. 
We also noticed where he had been 
pulling twigs off the jack pine and tear- 
ing up juniper. At last I chanced to 
walk past the lower side of the rock 
and saw an opening to a cave, about 
three feet wide and four feet high. A 
boulder half filled the opening leaving 
just room for a bear to squee-ce into tbe 
den. It was the polished sides of this 
opening which particularly attracted my 
attention, and which at first seemed to 
be too small to admit a bear. Calling to 
Bob I shouted, “I’ve located him !’’ The 
point then arose — if the bear was really 
in the den, how were we to get him out ? 
First of all we walked away about a hun- 
dred yards and kept quite still for twenty 
minutes to see if he would come out. 
No such luck ! We then tried making a 
great noise at the mouth of the den, even 
shooting into it, but there was no sound 
from the bear. We lighted matches and, 
reaching in as far as possible, tried to 
throw them onto the accumulation of 
pine needles that formed part of his bed, 
but to no avail. Finally I walked down 
the mountain side and, cutting the branch 
of a pine tree, trimmed the twigs, leav- 
ing a bunch at the end spread fanwise. 
While Bob held this stick I cut and piled 
up a hatful of dry shavings on it and, 
carefully lighting them, waited for them 
to blaze up. 
Then Bob, reaching out to the full ex- 
tent of the stick and his arm into the 
den, dropped the blazing pile onto the 
pine-needle bed. This fired it, and 
smoke began to pour out of the cave. 
We retired then to a post of vantage, 
having piled up rocks in front of the 
den to prevent him from coming out 
without giving us due warning. In a 
few minutes we noticed smoke percolat- 
ing through a crack in the rock imme- 
diately above the den. With the aid of 
a hunting knife and my finger nails 1 
enlarged this opening which made a 
good draught and chimney. We sat 
down to await events. Five minutes 
passed — ten — fifteen — and up to this 
point there was no indication whatever 
that the bear was in the den. Bob, losing 
patience, went down to the mouth of the 
den to see if he could discover anything 
of the bear. The next instant he stag- 
gered back with a yell, “Come on, Fred, 
here he is !’’ I half scrambled and fell 
to where he was in time to see the hear 
pushing his way out. Bob shouted to 
me, “Shoot, shoot, my rifle is jammed!’’ 
So at a range of twenty feet I fired at 
w'hat I could see of the bear, and put 
a bullet through his head. Then taking 
a firm grip of his hair with both hands 
I gave the bear a yank and he rolled 
over and down the mountain side about 
a thousand feet till he caught in the, 
rough rocks near the source of Red 
Rock Creek. Here we skinned and 
dressed him. We took the skin into 
camp that night and fetched out the meat 
the following day. It was dark long be- 
fore we reached camp with the bear 
skin, and after entering the last patch 
of timber about a quarter of a mile from 
camp we had to strike matches to keep 
ourselves on the pack trail. Two days 
later we pulled out for home, without a 
deer but more than compensated by this 
exciting and successful bear hunt. 
Fred W. Hodson, , 
British Columbia.' 
OVER THE SHOULDER 
Dear Forest and Stream ; j 
T he article in your September num-| 
ber signed “Questioner,” and en- 
titled “Over the Shoulder,” deserves anj 
answer. j 
From my earliest recollections I wasj 
told that a fox would grab a goose by^ 
the neck, throw it over his shoulder, and 
“go yonder.” 
I was running a locomotive on the 
Jtle.xican National Railroad and we had 
orders to pick up some cars at' a little 
siding called Pinto. The track was in a 
shallow cut and while the brakeman was 
uncoupling tbe engine I looked out oni 
the prairie and not fifty yards away- 
stood a very large coyote. There was a-, 
flock of goats scattered about grazing > 
close to him and I knew he wanted one. 
Two little Mexican boys were herding ■ 
the goats but were quite a distance away 
on the edge of a dry pond in the shade • 
of some willows. The conductor was 
back at the caboose making all kinds of " 
motions and yelling like a Comanche as ■ 
is their wont, and in fact we had no • 
great amount of time to squander but I , 
wanted to watch the coyote. At last 
the conductor came up and we sat on 
the box on top of the tender and kept . 
as quiet as possible. No setter dog ever ' 
made a steadier point. He finally riioved 
his head steadily and took a look in our 
direction, then as slowly turned and 
looked toward the little boys. 
There was a nice black kid grazing 
close to him and we thought he would 
get it, but no. M'hen he was satisfied 
that his chances were favorable he 
started and went like a streak. He 
rounded the flock, paid no attention to 
the black kid. and ran round and round 
till he got the whole bunch into a com- 
pact mass, heads out. He then made a , 
dive right into them. Of course they * 
