90 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 17, 1909. 
this huge beast; for, reaching out, I cautiously 
picked up the hand flashlight machine which I 
had carried from the tent a few minutes be¬ 
fore. If I should shove this machine close to¬ 
ward his face and fire it—at the same time clos¬ 
ing my own eyes—the animal would be so blind¬ 
ed by the terrific power of the flashlight that 
for several minutes he would be unable to see 
and I could reach the tent in safety, even if he 
were disposed to be dangerous after such a 
greeting. On the other hand, if I should wait 
until he attempted to grapple me and then fire 
this flash under his chin, it would mean the 
instant destruction of his eyesight, of his powers 
of scent, and the infliction of such terrible agony 
that all ability to fight and all desire to fight 
would be gone. 
Realizing all this I looked at the bear with 
much more satisfaction than at first, and then 
tried to figure out the best way of making him 
depart without alarming him too much, although 
up to this time he did not seem to know what 
fear was. Finally I gave a low steady hiss, 
whereupon he came down on to all fours and 
for an instant I was in doubt whether his move¬ 
ment was to be an advance or a retreat, but he 
slowly turned and went down over the bank 
into some thick bushes and later I could hear 
him walking along the gravelly beach. 
Making Ready for the Bombardment. 
By this time I had made up my mind to give 
him a good one the next time, so removing all 
the flashlight powder from the machine con¬ 
nected with the stake at the lake shore, I poured 
it on top of the one connected with the elk 
trail, and I likewise took all the powder from 
my hand flash and added it, placing on top of 
this large amount of powder a good sized flat 
stone, not only for the purpose of increasing 
the speed of the flash by exploding it, but so 
that the noise would awaken me, if I were 
asleep, and at the same time let the bear know 
that something was happening. 
I then took the fish from the lake shore and 
fastened them to the other string, where the 
bait had already been eaten, and hurried back 
to the tent where the hand flash was reloaded 
and the axe and pistol put in easy reach. It 
was now only half-past nine, and I thought 
that within ten or fifteen minutes the bear would 
be back. An hour passed and finally it had be¬ 
come half-past eleven, and no bear. Worn out 
with continual watching during the afternoon 
and evening ,1 concluded it would be better to 
get into the sleeping bag, knowing that if the 
flash went off I would not be in any doubt about it. 
Whether it was some presentiment or merely 
the habit so many sportsmen have of taking a 
last look, I went once more to the front of the, 
tent, and sticking my head out through the nar¬ 
row opening, had just twisted it around far 
enough for my right eye to see the camera, 
when I noticed what seemed a large shadow 
flit across the camera stand. I thought perhaps 
the flight of an owl a little higher up had cut 
off the direct light of the moon. 
Everybody Surprised this Time. 
Before this impression had more than time to 
suggest itself it seemed as though the world had 
come to an end, for from the cameras came a 
dazzling burst of light such as I had never seen 
equalled by the most terrific flash of lightning. 
It shot into the air twenty-five feet and extended 
on either side apparently the same distance. 
Several whirling missiles shot through the heavy 
pine overhanging my tent, while a roar that 
sounded like a young cannon added to the ex¬ 
citement. An instant later the stone came down, 
striking the edge of the tent. 
My right eye was now completely paralyzed 
and for the time useless, but twisting my head 
around a little further I saw some laige round 
object roll down the bank from the camera 
stand and land in the bushes where there was 
a great thrashing about for a moment, and then 
up the bank came the big silver-tip, headed al¬ 
most directly for the cameras, and missing them 
by only two feet. A yard further on the bear 
struck a tall, slim poplar with his left shouldei 
and the big tree came to the ground with a 
quickness that was most remarkable, having been 
snapped off at the base without being uprooted. 
The animal, checked and tripped up by this 
collision, fell over on its back and, for what 
seemed like a second, lay there motionless with 
four immense feet sticking rigidly up into the 
air. Then he scrambled up again, and I dis¬ 
covered for the first time that he was headed in 
the opposite direction from that in which he 
had been going, so that he had turned a com¬ 
plete somersault, quite a performance for an 
eight-hundred pound animal. But all sense of 
direction had been lost, and with anothei rush 
he again passed the cameras and shot out over 
the bank a second time, catching either with his 
front feet or his rear ones a large boulder, and 
together they went into the bushes again. 
By this time I was beginning to chuckle. The 
next move made was a rush through the long 
line of bushes between the elk trail and the lake 
shore, and it seemed as though an automobile 
could not have made more noise. Seventy-five 
yards down the trail I finally saw him cioss at 
the entrance of a small gully up which I could 
trace his going, and later his ascent of the 
mountain by the continual rolling of the loose 
stones and shale until finally all was still. 
One Grizzly Knows what Fear Is. 
It was evident that this bear had had all that 
he wished of Yellowstone Lake and was taking 
a short cut over the highest mountains to any 
old place to which his legs might carry him. 
If there are any persons who think that a 
grizzly bear is not capable of fear, they would 
have been converted could they have been pres¬ 
ent on this occasion. It is my private opinion 
that this bear did not last out the season, for 
upon the coming up of every electric storm, 
with the flashing of lightning and the roar of 
thunder, the chances are that with each flash 
he once more took up his wild retreat and has 
very likely ended his career by going over some 
precipice. 
Taking my pocket electric lamp I now ex¬ 
amined the seat of war, and found that this 
huge flash, placed entirely too near the cameras, 
had burned all the leather off the boxes and 
made them look as though they had been white¬ 
washed. Little was left of the flashlight machine 
except the bed plate, and all the working mechan¬ 
ism had been blown away. The leaves on the 
overhanging poplars were burned or whitened 
for a distance of thirty feet and altogether the 
place presented a scene of devastation. 
Examining the ground in front of the cameras 
I saw where the bear had made the first whirl 
when the flash was fired, and he was not over 
a foot and a half away from the lenses. When 
I looked out of the tent he had evidently been 
standing on his hind legs, viewing the cameras 
and possibly wondering whether the bright bar¬ 
rels of the lenses contained raspberry jam, be¬ 
cause the night before he had no doubt been 
much surprised and pleased when his teeth 
pierced the can of jam. After surveying the 
cameras he had evidently dropped upon all fours 
which gave the appearance of a shadow just as 
I looked out, and in his descent his body had 
struck the string running from the flashlight be¬ 
tween the cameras, and when the explosion 
occurred his head and shoulders must have been 
within the radius of the flame and fumes, j 
Is it, therefore, any wonder that he was sur¬ 
prised at the demonstration? Possibly in his 
cubhood days he had been made aware of the 
danger of putting his feet in the boiling geyser 
springs of the park and possibly he had had 
sad experiences in snuffing in vent holes filled 
with sulphurous steam, but I doubt if he had 
ever dreamed of anything that equalled this. . 
As my nerves quieted down I realized that 
the long vigil had been in vain, so far as any 
photographic trophy was concerned, and came to ; 
the conclusion that perhaps it was an act of 
Providence which prevented the violation of my 
rule against the photographing wild animals in 
any game preserve. And, pretty well tired out, 
I crawled into my sleeping bag for the remainder 
of the night. 
The next morning I again looked over the 
ground, and then noticed, for the first time, that 
the fallen poplar held a bunch of hair as 
big as one’s fist and, further, that the animal 
had scored and torn up the earth with its great 
claws for nearly fifty feet in the neighborhood. 
Later on I had a humble breakfast of cold flap- 
jacks, washed down with several cups of hot 
coffee. 
Toward noon I saw the canoe approaching 
with my two men in it. No sooner had the; 
gotten within greeting distance than inquiries 
were made about the bear, and as Ferrell step¬ 
ped ashore he asked me if ‘‘Old Blackie’ had 
returned. Not answering the question directly 
I pointed to the fallen poplar and asked hitr 
whether he had cut down that tree, which only 
led him to say that was not the kind of a tret 
we used for firewood, and he walked up to loot 
at it. Suddenly bending over the trunk of tht 
tree he seized the bunch of hair, exclaiming 
“My God! It was a grizzly,” to which I cheer 
fully assented, and then proceeded to tell tb 
adventures of the night. After I had finishet 
Ferrell said: “I am mighty glad you staye' 
over, now that you are uninjured, and for on 
reason.” When asked what the rea'son was, b 
simply said: “That old devil got just what wa 
coming to him, and even if we do not have mud 
to eat for the next two days I will never fas 
with better grace.” 
During this trip up the river we were doubt 
less surrounded by many bears, but aside hot 
the two referred to, we saw but one other, s 
it entered a ravine late one evening, so that w 
have here the remarkable contrast between th 
bears in the wilder portions of the park and thos 
that are actually on sight about the hotels. Bt 
a few of the former go a long way, as Job 
remarked. 
