FOREST AND STREAM. 
Nov. 14, 1908.] 
lie kit was crouching, crying, and which the 
at was rapidly approaching with danger in its 
yes. I felt that I was trembling as the scene 
eared the finale, but my grip was tense and 
jteady. The cat made a beautiful picture, I re- 
lembered afterward, as with powerful strokes 
forged ahead, its long tail waving in the water 
•om the vigorous motion of its hindlegs, all of 
hich I should have admired had I been up a 
ee with a rifle for company, but just now I had 
it time. I did not raise the weapon at once, for 
>ar the cat might veer off and land at some 
lace not so favorable to me, but when it got 
ithin two or three feet of the logs I raised the 
ick, seeing which, the cat partially stopped and 
irned as if to go further up. This was my op- 
ortunity, and I put all the muscle I had into 
le blow, striking the animal fairly on the head 
ith such force that I must have crushed its 
cull, and the huge cat ceased motion, quivering 
c it lay, while again and again I brought the 
ick down upon its head until I knew I had 
-ushed it to a pulp, and the limp carcass with 
slashing of its tail and convulsive working of 
s limbs floated down a little distance, lodging 
gainst a limb of a tree that protruded from 
;neath the water. 
If ever I was completely unnerved, it was 
len, for it had been a mighty close call, and 
y legs were about to double up under me 
hen a terrific scream from the opposite shore 
tched me all up standing again. There stood 
ie mate of the dead puma, attracted to the 
' ace by the crying of the kit, and apparently 
eparing to come across to see about matters, 
' which I seriously objected. I did not want 
ly more zoology or cougar fights. One was 
i 'fficient. There was only one way to prevent 
and that might not succeed, but I determined 
1 try it, so quickly stepping to the kit which 
as cowering, crying, between two logs, where 
had crept apparently half frightened to death 
all this disturbance, and seizing it by the neck 
ith my left hand, and by both hind feet with 
y right, which I gripped tightly so as to pre- 
■nt any movement of its claws, I raised it, 
osed my left, swung it round my head once, 
id with all the strength in me, let go. The 
] tie thing sailed through the air, turning end 
er end, and fell splashing into the water a 
rd or two from the other bank, where the old 
t, wading in, seized it, carried it ashore, laid 
down, licked it dry, giving me a glance now 
| d then, and to my heartfelt thankfulness and 
lief carried it up the bluff and disappeared in 
1 2 bushes. Then I collapsed, and shook for 
me minutes like a man with a genuine case 
; Scioto River bottom “ager,” and when I got 
| rough I was as weak as the cat in the water, 
! d could scarcely have moved had forty cats 
■ me for me. But as soon as I could stand I 
nt down the shore a ways to where I could 
de the stream, crossed, got the boat, re- 
med, realizing just then that the water was 
illy very cold, went for the cat, which proved 
be the dam, now resting harmlessly enough, 
ith some difficulty I got it into the boat, se- 
; f ed my creel, from which most of the fish 
i d disappeared, the cover having been torn 
>se again during my violent race, found my 
it trying to get loose from a snag in the 
;'rent at the lower edge of the drift, and lost 
time in putting distance between me and the 
mtful pool. In this way I warmed my chilled 
blood, then easing up, landing at a convenient 
spot, where I wrung out my wet clothes, and 
took the hide from the cat with my clasp hunt¬ 
ing knife, which always goes with me in my 
outings, and which 1 was glad to have along on 
this occasion, for with a pocket penknife the 
job would have been onerous. As it was, the 
task was quite lengthy owing to the lack of 
facilities for hanging up, and evening drew on 
as I tied the boat to its mooring at Klackal- 
lackum. 
Great was the wonderment at the little store 
where I waited for the night boat from Astoria 
for Portland, when I explained how I got my 
pelt, and from some of the questions asked I 
suspected that there was a sneaking belief that 
I had bought the skin from some hunter whom 
I had met, or found it where some grizzly had 
been having a violent argument with the wearer. 
I referred them to the carcass, however, as a 
IV.—She Bear’s Bear Chase. 
When men have killed a bear, a coup may be 
counted on it, and he who first strikes the animal 
is entitled to the hide. If more than one took 
part in the killing, he who counted the first 
coup was entitled to the best part of the hide. 
1 he hide was generally used for a saddle blanket 
or sometimes to wrap a shield in. 
The practice of counting a coup on a bear 
is no doubt a survival of the time when a bear 
was an enemy as dangerous—or even more so— 
than a man. Against a bear the Indians armed 
with stone-pointed arrows must have been nearly 
defenseless, and at that time the bear feared 
nothing that lived on the prairie and chased and 
killed anything that he could overtake. 
There are a few stories of man-eating grizzly 
bears, animals that preyed on the people, lying 
in wait for them, capturing them, and even by 
their depredations driving the members of an 
Indian tribe from favorite camping places. All 
these stories, however, go back to a time anterior 
to the coming of the white man, for the acqui¬ 
sition of the horse and of iron-pointed arrows 
tended to put the Indian far more nearly on a 
level with the brute enemy than when his arms 
were of stone. The bear was protected by heavy 
fur, a strong hide, thick fat, hard muscles and 
general toughness, and besides this it was armed 
with terrible teeth and claws and had great 
speed. It was far swifter, stronger, better pro¬ 
tected and better armed than the primitive In¬ 
dian. 
All Indians greatly enjoy a joke, even though 
it may be against themselves, and frequently tell 
stories of amusing adventures which have hap¬ 
pened to them, not sparing themselves in cases 
where they have not played a particularly bril¬ 
liant part. In other word, they readily tell 
stories where the joke is on themselves, and 
seem to enjoy such stories as much as their 
hearers. 
clincher. In due course of time the whistle of 
the Thompson split the stillness of the night, 
and as soon as possible I was in a berth, having 
my wet clothes hung up by the steward to dry, 
so that when I awoke in the morning with the 
boat at her dock at Portland, I was in about as 
good plight as ever. 
If any one finds a lancewood rod up the 
Pilchuck, I should be very much obliged indeed 
to know it. It is mine—or was. I should like 
exceedingly to have it for association’s sake. 
This is the first time I have given to any one 
a detailed account of my adventure, and hesi¬ 
tate even now. as I said in the beginning, but 
being put on the defensive, though the story 
seems large, I must tell it as it is. It is no 
larger than the pelt that stretches its beautiful 
eight feet by six feet in my hall, the admiration 
of all who see it. As I remarked, it speaks for 
itself. So do I. 
Old She Bear, a Cheyenne chief, once told me 
with much apparent enjoyment of an incident 
that had happened at the shooting of a bear by 
himself and a companion. 
The two young men had discovered the bear, 
chased it on horseback and begun to shoot at 
it with their arrows. “It was hard to get our 
horses up to the bear,” said She Bear; “they 
did not like to run close to it and a good many 
of our arrows missed. Whenever I tried to get 
my horse close to the bear it would turn off 
and then the bear would get a long way ahead. 
Still some of our arrows hit the bear, and at 
last it fell and my friend and I jumped off our 
horses and ran forward on foot as fast as we 
could, each trying to be first to strike the bear. 
“In those days I was light and active, and 
I ran as fast as I could, and reached the bear 
first. I was running so fast that I could not 
stop and I jumped over the bear and struck ;t 
with my bow as I went over. My friend was 
close behind me, but was not going so fast, and 
when he got to the bear he stopped and struck 
it a hard blow, and this blow seemed to wake 
the bear up. It was not dead. 
“When it jumped to its feet, its head was to¬ 
ward me, and it ran at me, fast. I ran away as 
hard as I could, but the bear kept after me, and 
although I seemed to be going fast I could see 
that it was gaining on me. I ran as hard as I 
could, constantly looking back and paying no 
attention to what was in front of me. Presently, 
without knowing it, I came to a high cut bluff 
and ran off it into the air. I fell a long way 
and hurt myself, but when I struck the ground, 
though I was hurt and confused, I did not stop 
to think of those things; I thought only of the 
bear and jumped to my feet and limped off as 
fast as I could. 
“The bear came to the top of the bluff, stopped, 
looked over and turned away, and in a moment 
began to stagger and fell not to rise again.” 
Geo. Biro Grinnell. 
Indian Camp-Fire Tales 
