October, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
535 
The female grizzly that charged. Note how the arrows went clean through her 
knocked head over heels backward and 
falls over and over, in backward somer- 
saults down the steep snow bank. There 
she gathers herself and attempts to 
charge again, but her right fore leg 
fails her. Like a flash two arrows fly 
at her and disappear through her 
heaving sides. She wilts, and as we 
draw to shoot again, she sprawls upon 
the ground, a convulsed, quivering mass 
of fur and muscle. She is dead. 
T HE two-year-olds had dispersed at 
the boom of the gun. We saw one 
making off at a gallop three hun- 
dred yards away. The snow bank be- 
fore us was vacant. 
We went down to view the remains. 
Young had three arrows in the old bear, 
— one deep in her neck, the point emerg- 
ing back of the shoulder. He shot that 
as she charged. His first shot struck 
anterior to the shoulder and entered her 
chest, cutting her left lung from top to 
bottom. His third arrow pierced her 
thorax through and through and lay on 
the ground with only the feathers in the 
wound. 
My first arrow cut her below the dia- 
phragm, penetrating through the stom- 
ach and liver, severing her gall ducts 
and portal vein; my second arrow had 
passed completely through her abdomen 
and lay on the ground beside her. It 
had cut her intestines in a dozen places 
and opened large branches of the mesen- 
teric artery. 
The bullet from Frost's rifle had en- 
tered at the right shoulder, fractured 
the right humerus, blown a hole an inch 
in diameter through the chest wall, 
opened up a jagged hole in the trachea 
and dissipated its energy in the lung. 
No wound of exit was found, the soft 
nose copper-jacketed bullet having ap- 
parently gone to pieces after striking 
the bone. 
Anatomically speaking, it did the nec- 
essary thing, knocked the bear down and 
crippled her, but it was not an immedi- 
ately mortal wound. We had her killed, 
but she didn’t know it. She certainly 
would have been right on us in another 
two seconds. The outcome of this hypo- 
thetical encounter I leave to those with 
vivid imaginations. We hereby express 
our gratitude to Ned Frost. 
Now we had to rush off and get the 
camera and the rest of the boys. We 
had my brother, G. D. Pope and Judge 
Hulbert of Detroit along with us to see 
the sport and to give dignity to the 
party. Inadvertently they had gone in 
other fields in quest of bear. 
Ned tramped off across bogs, streams 
Conquered by the bow 
and hills, and within an hour we all got 
together to view the wreckage. The 
skinning and autopsy having been com- 
pleted, we looked around for our other 
bear. There was his trail, with here and 
there a blood spot, and there was our 
little friend huddled up on the hill side, 
my arrow nestled to his breast. 
One broken arrow, with its head deep 
in the thorax, pulmonary artery wounds, 
and a dead bear. He had traveled about 
two hundred yards. Half grown as he 
was he would have made an ugly antago- 
nist for any man. 
His mother was a fine, mature lady of 
the old school, showing by her teeth and 
other lineaments her age and respecta- 
bility. In autumn she would have 
weighed four or five hundred pounds. 
We weighed her in instalments and 
found her to register three hundred and 
five pounds. The juvenile ursus weighed 
one hundred and thirty-five. So we 
measured them, gathered their bones for 
the museum, shouldered their hides and 
turned homeward. 
That night Ned Frost said: “Boys, 
when you proposed shooting grizzly with 
the bow I thought it a fine sporting 
proposition, but I had my doubts about 
the success. Now I know that you can 
shoot through and kill the biggest grizzly 
in Wyoming.” 
O UR instructions on leaving Cali- 
fornia had been to secure a large 
male , — Ursus Horribilis-Imperator, 
— a good representative female and two 
or three cubs. The female we had 
shot filled the requirements, but the two- 
year-old was at the high school age, and 
was hardly cute enough to be admired. 
So we set out to get some of this 
year’s vintage in small bear. Ordinarily, 
there is no difficulty in coming in con- 
tact with bear in Yellowstone; in fact, 
