X 
THE BEAR 
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very likely, when he wasn’t farther than 10 yards off, 
and I should have had such a poor start, and no 
place to run to! No, I knew better than that, with 
a single-barrel Sharp '450. If I had had your 
double-barrel ’577, with a big solid bullet, and 6 
drams of powder, I shouldn’t have run away ; but 
I go hunting for skins with my little Sharp, and I 
don’t want a grizzly to go hunting for my skin; 
not if I know it. I’ve left him for you, and d’ye see, 
if you go up there this morning, there’s some snow 
about, and you’ll likely come across his tracks. If 
you do, you’ll be astonished, I can tell you.” 
Ten minutes after this discourse, I was on my 
way up the mountain side in the hope of meeting 
this extraordinary bear. 
Upon arrival at the summit, there was a 
splendid view of the main range of the Rocky 
Mountains, about 70 miles distant, across a desolate 
region some 4000 feet below the point upon which 
we stood. There was a little snow, but only in 
patches on the mountain top, and, when near the 
terrace upon which Big Bill had had his interview 
with the bear, we certainly discovered an enormous 
track, the largest that I have ever seen. 
We attempted to follow this for some hours, but 
to no purpose ; on several occasions I could have 
taken deadly shots at black-tail deer and wapiti, 
but I determined to reserve my bullet for the big 
game, the object of our pursuit. The day passed 
away in failure. The next day was equally disap¬ 
pointing ; from morning to sunset I fagged over the 
