April 30, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
689 
fury, regained his feet, upsetting Zeke in the 
movement and sending Samanthy and Jim-Hen 
to climb a big ash-hopper in a hurry. 
In upsetting the new convert, Zeke, the bear 
v as himself overthrown again. Bruin and bar¬ 
rel rolled completely over the boy, but with 
no other result than to make the Hopper family 
redouble their frantic shrieks. At this point 
Mrs. Hopper saw another chance, and fetched a 
wild blow at the bear’s legs. Missing the legs, 
she hit the sorghum barrel a whack that loos¬ 
ened up the staves and the barrel began to 
collapse. 
Up rose the bear, the staves falling all about 
him, though the hoops still clung to his bulky 
per, trying to slip up on the bear from behind 
with her ax. 
Preacher Yarky was watching with all his 
might. Abandoning his efforts to secure the 
rifle, he darted behind the door, as the bear, in 
full pursuit, ran into the cabin. Before bruin 
fairly recovered his bearings amid the gloom 
of the interior, the preacher nimbly ran out 
again, pulling the door to as he came, until the 
latch fell into its socket; then he sank down 
panting on the doorstep, short of wind and 
suspiciously pale. 
“Well, sir!” declared the widow. “He’s fast 
inside agin. My! You do look sorter pale 
around the gills, Preacher.” 
sticks and mortar fly in its struggles to emerge 
entirely. This was too much for the widow’s 
patience, already sorely tried. She unlatched 
the door, pushed it open and seized the rifle 
from its perch over the door. Then, with the 
true grit of a mountain-raised woman, she 
darted to where she could see the bear’s head 
and shoulders as he was making a wreck of the 
chimney-top. 
“Drot yer picter!” she cried, raising the gun. 
“You’ve ruint my furnitoor, but you shan’t tear 
down my chimbley long as I can fire my old 
man’s gun.” 
Then she began pumping .44-caliber bullets 
into the brute, until he collapsed and hung 
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WHERE WOODSLOAFERS AND CANOEISTS LOVE TO LINGER. 
From a photograph by Perry D. Frazer. 
sides. He was wild with rage, dripping with 
sugary mush, and altogether a ludicrous and 
alarming sight. Zeke, more scared than hurt, 
crawled under the cabin, which was set up on 
blocks, and had space enough underneath to 
shelter hogs, dogs, chickens and the ubiqui¬ 
tous flea:; Samanthy and Jim-Hen had reached 
the top of the ash-hopper, from which they 
were screaming lustily from fear and excitement. 
The sight of her shattered barrel added more 
fuel to the widow's ire, nor did she flinch from 
the angry brute as he tore himself away from 
the remaining hoops. Fortunately for her, per¬ 
haps, the bear started after the preacher, who 
was then in the very act of reaching through 
the doorway for the rifle. In the bright moon¬ 
light all these happenings were as plainly re¬ 
vealed as if daylight had ruled. 
“Watch out, Preacher!” screamed Mrs. Hop- 
“He—he’s a mighty big bear, after all,” 
gulped Mr. Yarky. 
“Yessir, or he wouldn’t a got stuck in my 
scggrum bar’l. But I do wisht you’d a got 
hold of the gun.” 
They listened to bruin’s lumbering move¬ 
ments, as in his search for the preacher he ap¬ 
parently devoted his spare energies to smash¬ 
ing up whatever had been left unsmashed be¬ 
fore Mrs. Hopper’s household goods. 
“Land o’ mercy!” she groaned. “He’ll bo- 
dashusly ruin us afore he’s done. What shall I 
do?” 
“Mammy!” Zeke had crawled out from under 
the house. “The crittur’s a climbin’ up the 
chimbley.” 
Sure enough; presently the bear’s head ap¬ 
peared above the chimney top. The fit being 
very tight, the bear began to make the stones, 
limply, held fast by the confining chimney walls. 
When they were certain the bear was dead, 
Mrs. Hopper lighted a pine knot torch and sur¬ 
veyed the general wreckage of her lares and 
penates. Brother Yarky proposed that a prayer 
of thanksgiving be offered up for the victory, 
but the widow’s heart was too sore as yet over 
the damage which had been wrought. 
“Land o’ mercy!” she expostulated. “Wat 
we’uns here got to be thankful for? Thar’s all 
my crockery broke, my table smashed, my 
beddin’ tore and gormed up, my soggrum bar'l 
ruint and the new crop jest coinin' in, and 
yander is three hundred weight of tough b’ar 
meat chokin’ up my chimbley, so't we can’t start 
a fire.” 
“How ’re we ever goin’ ter git the critter 
down?” queried Zeke. brought at last to earth 
again from the seventh heaven of his conver- 
