BEAR HUNTING. 
271 
foot in depth, its clear cold waters glancing like crystal over its 
pebbly bed. On three sides it was hemmed in by steep banks, 
so densely set with the evergreen junipers, interlaced and 
matted with cat-briers and other creeping plants, that a small 
dog could not, without a struggle, have forced its way through 
the close thicket. On the fourth side, fronting the opening of 
the rift by which the waters found their egress, there stood a 
tall, flat face of granite rock, completely blocking up the glen, 
perfectly smooth and slippery, until it reached the height of 
forty feet, when it became uneven, and broke into many craggy 
steps and seams, from one of which shot out the broad stem and 
gnarled branches of an aged oak, overshadowing, with its 
grateful umbrage, the sequestered source of that wild mountain 
spring. The small cascade, gushing from an aperture midway 
the height of the tall cliff, leaped, in a single glittering thread, 
scarcely a foot broad, and but an inch or two in volume, into 
the little pool which it had worn out for its own reception in the 
hard stone at the bottom. Immediately behind this natural 
fountain, which, in its free leap, formed an arch of several feet 
in diameter, might be seen a small and craggy aperture, but 
little larger than the entrance of a common well, situate close 
to the rock’s base, descending in a direction nearly perpendi¬ 
cular, for several feet, as might be easily discovered from with¬ 
out. 
“ There, Frank,” cried Harry, as he pointed to the cave— 
“ there is the scene of my Bear story; and here , as I told you, is 
the sweetest nook, and freshest spring, you ever saw or tasted!” 
“ For the sight,” replied I, “ I confess. As to the taste, J 
will speak more presently.” While I replied, I was engaged 
in producing from my pocket our slight stores of pilot biscuit 
salt, and hard-boiled eggs, whereunto Harry contributed hi? 
quota in the shape of a small piece of cold salt pork, and—tell 
it not in Gath—two or three young, green-topped, summer 
onions. Two modest-sized dram bottles, duly supplied with old 
Farintosh, and a dozen or two of right Manilla cheroots, ar¬ 
ranged in tempting order, beside the brimming basin of the 
