ascent on either side. Here the old dog began 
to yell with all his might and we let the rest 
loose. In another three minutes the whole 
pack were in full cry, going up the worst side 
of course They ran up for about half a mile 
Slid bayed m some Quaking - asp, but we were 
all too far behind to see anything; and they 
soon went on upward. All the time the rocks 
vvere getting rougher and the way more pre¬ 
cipitous. but on we toiled. G. and C. were left 
m the dim distance. E. was ahead and J. and 
I a few yards behind, were not a little interested 
in the mineral we continually passed. However, 
he being better versed in mineralogy than my¬ 
self, was sooner satisfied as to its intrinsic 
value and waddled on; thus it came about that 
^ was beb ' nd toiling slowly but surely. 
When I arrived near the summit, E. and J. 
were about 300 yards in front; on getting there 
I shouted and received no answer; they had 
gone! dogs and all, goodness knows where. 
1 hus I reflected, “Any animal doubling on the 
bounds will have to come down the pass I have 
just come up; and if he does not double I have 
no chance on earth of ever seeing him or my 
dogs till sundown.” So I lit a pipe and while 
taking in the situation, a fine pair of elk horns 
caught my eye. They were lying on a rock at 
the edge of the cliff, probably having been 
placed there by some Indian. A short examina¬ 
tion satisfied me that I had not come all this 
way for nothing. Accordingly I shouldered 
them, with the intention of hiding and getting 
them at a future date. But, alas! when I was 
well coiled up in them something rushed past 
me about 5 ° yards to my left through the brush, 
and made for the pass. I cannot tell what 
possessed me, but for some reason or other, 
or no reason at all, I thought it was a deer, so 
I took my time getting to the brink of the 
precipice, for we were not hunting deer. When 
I did get there I heard a “yap” behind me, and 
here was a hound in close pursuit; and about 
300 yards below, disappearing into some scrub, 
was a cinnamon bear with two tiny cubs. I 
fired two or three random shots without effect. 
Then G. fired three times from the opposite 
hill, but the bear was too fast and too far off. 
The old hound went on, and then came a pup, 
both were tired and footsore, not having been 
out before this since early in the spring. The 
rest being young dogs and wild from want of 
exercise, overran the trail; anyway, they did 
not put in an appearance until late that evening. 
Having satisfied myself that the tired old 
hound and pup would never overhaul that bear 
with her two cubs to protect, I again shouldered 
my elk horns and rifle and began my descent, 
soon to meet C. and J., the latter somewhat ex¬ 
cited at having seen and shot at his first bear. 
It was a buster,” he said, but I thought it 
was rather small. Below we met J. and E., 
who had gone round and come down ahead of 
us, having seen nothing. 
But the tale of the day has yet to be told, for 
shortly after we had left in the morning the 
Mexican tending the stock had run in to ac¬ 
quaint G. with the welcome fact that a bear 
was within 50 yards of his tent and had not 
yet seen him. Out he went with his little . 44 . 
and there sure enough was our old cinnamon, 
minus her cubs, taking a bath in our drinking 
water to cool off a bit after her run. This was 
too much for G.’s nerves, and up went his gun. 
Snap!_ There was no cartridge in. She heard 
the click and was gone. Oh, mortifying mo¬ 
ment for G.! He fired into the brush, but that 
was the last time the old lady visited the lo¬ 
cality. That night the cubs came around camp 
to hunt their mother and caused an awful com¬ 
motion among the stock. 
The next day we had another unsuccessful 
run, I think after the same bear; but she had 
been traveling all night and we ran all day with¬ 
out overhauling her. An amusing incident oc¬ 
curred to C. and G. They were again left be- 
iind, sitting on a log in the road indulging in 
the fragrant weed, when G. suddenly jumped 
up and shouted, “There’s a bear!” C. fell back- 
mm d fl° Ver the *? h L s hurr y to rise; and his 
gun flew over his head. He gained his feet, 
however, in time to take part in the roar of in- 
The PARKER GUN Again a Winner? 
§AD a i!^ a o y V-VtV 9 ', 1 ’ The “ OLD RELIABLE” 
ARKER GUN, shot by Howard D. Bates, of 
Ridge town, Ont again won the Grand Canadian 
andicap at live birds, killing 25 straight and 9 in the 
shoot-off, from the limit distance of 31 yds. Mr. Bates 
shot at 54 birds during the tournament and killed them 
all. 1 his is Some Shooting ! 
Send for Catalogue 
PARKER BROS. 
New York Salesrooms: 32 Warren St. Meriden, Conn. 
Marlin Bis 
REPEA TING RIFLES 
Game 
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1893 
The Special Smokeless Steel barrel, rifled deep 
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matter from getting into the action. The side ejection throws shells 
away trom line of sight and allows instant repeat shots, always. 
Built in perfect proportion throughout, in many high power calibers, 
it is a quick handling, powerful, accurate gun for all big game. 
Every hunter should know all the ZTZcrrV/si characteristics, 
bend for our free catalog. Enclose 3 stamps for postage. 
^ 7/2<zr/is2 fir’&czi’/ns Co. 
IVillow Street, . . . NEW HAVEN, CONN. 
THE NARRATIVE OF A SPORTSMAN 
INTER-OCEAN HUNTING TALES 
EDGAR F. RANDOLPH 
.. A senes of hunting reminiscences of rare charm for the sportsman and for 
the wider circle which delights in true tales of outdoor life. With none of the high 
coonngandexaggcrat 100 which give a false note to so many hunting stories Mr 
Randolph s book is never lacking in interest. g curies, lvir. 
• , He C ( °T e f rS - th fu fie]d ° f sp ° rt w . ith , the rifle > eas t and west, drawing a vivid word 
nntdon ° f lfe - m the < ? P - en ’ subordinatln g his own exploits to the main incidents of 
bnht s Tf eX? M nenCe ’ glvl , ng mu . ch valuable information on camp life, hunting and the 
iiewpo°nt. W gamC ' and C ° ntmUalIy delightlIlg the reader with the freshness of his 
h„ntl hl ^f b00k ™ dI stri K e a sympathetic chord in the memory of every big-game 
excursion intoSwifd Pr ° Ve ° f ^ ^ t0 the n ° vice who is planning an 
Cloth, 170 Pages. Richly Illustrated. Postpaid, $1.00. 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY, 127 Franklin Street, NEW YORK 
