brush, I risked a snap-shot, hitting in the breast and break¬ 
ing the shoulder-bone. As he whirled, Little shot—but 
missed! 
Again the bear was off, and although he left a very bloody 
spoor, we could not come up with him. 
A couple of dogs making simple matter of bringing bear 
to bag, we returned to the boat, intending to make for Eliza 
Bay for an Indian and dogs, to follow the wounded quarry. 
The boat, however, was still aground, forcing us to wait until 
i o’clock, when finally the tide floated us off. Spent the in¬ 
terim digging a canal in the 
sand, the sooner to admit the 
tide; g a i n i n g about a half 
hour through this. 
The Indians were hunting 
on a flat at the end of Eliza 
Harbor, and more time was 
lest awaiting their return to 
camp and then procuring the 
dogs. Returned to P y b u s 
about 6.30; but, while blood 
spoor and tracks showed the 
bear to have fallen repeatedly, 
we never saw him again. 
This incident taught us a 
valued lesson—a pair of good 
bear-dogs, kept in camp, 
would save many a wounded 
bear! 
Our Indian friend from 
Eliza Harbor desiring to re¬ 
turn shortly, Little, Barney, 
and I left at 3.30 upon an all-day hunt. The launch was to 
meet us that afternoon in a cove further up the Pybus. 
Hunted all morning, rowing some eight miles up-stream 
and making a noon-hour stop on a small island. Having 
taken only a light lunch along, a mess of clams, which Little 
and I dug out with sticks and then steamed over some sea 
weed, formed a welcome addition. 
Late in the afternoon started for the cove settled on as 
rendezvous. Not seeing the launch, decided that the engine 
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