THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
top of a little chasm down which ran a steep path — and seeing us as we 
advanced he plunged at one stride into the dark recesses of the forest and 
was lost to sight. I felt sad that night and tossed about uneasily amidst 
the mice and hay of a neighbouring sseter. The next day, however, was an 
exciting one, for an account of which I turn to my journal. 
September 4th. Another far too glorious morning. No wind again, and 
little prospect of it. We started at six, rowing across a large and exquisitely 
beautiful lake, accompanied by Anton the farmer, who acted as our food 
carrier. Running into the lake there is a great peninsula which always 
holds elk, so here we landed, and Anton, beating the woods, succeeded 
in driving towards me a big cow that came out and passed close to us, but 
no bull showed up. 
Other game, however, was in store for us. I had always been led to sup- 
pose that to see and shoot a bear in Norway is one of the rarest pieces of 
good luck that can fall to the lot of the hunter, and this impression was 
confirmed by the experience of the two oldest English sportsmen who, after 
using the rifle in Norway for the past twenty -five years, had each secured 
only one. That I might meet with one seemed therefore so unlikely that I 
never even asked if there were bears in the neighbourhood. Now, however, 
as we passed along the edge of the timber line above the main valley and 
were traversing some wonderful blaeberry patches thoughts of Bruin forced 
themselves upon my mind. A great ant-heap had been ruthlessly torn to 
pieces by some very recent visitor, and beside it I noticed, to my delight, 
the fresh droppings, not ten minutes old, of a large bear. “ We must come 
and watch here in the evening,” said Kristian as soon as he saw the place. 
But where was the bear at this moment ? I advanced down a steep spur 
which commanded a fine view of the wood below, followed by Kristian, 
who, passing me on the way, kept a look-out ahead while I examined a great 
windfall of trees that lay amidst the rocks immediately to my right. Sud- 
denly the quick passage of some heavy body over a slanting rowan tree 
attracted me. The tree shook violently for a moment, and I knew that if 
the creature were an elk I must have seen it; so turning hurriedly to my 
hunter I made a sign for him to give me my Paradox. At that instant the 
bear (for, of course, it was Mr Bruin) stood straight up on his hind legs, 
and in the excitement of the moment Kristian, forgetful of my orders to 
the contrary, raised his rifle and fired. The shot told. With a loud roar 
the brute stumbled and fell, but almost immediately recovered himself 
and was in the act of scrambling over a great fallen tree when I fired. To 
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