June 24, 1911.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
965 
fish on the stake and getting, away without be¬ 
ing caught in the trap. He will come right 
back to that stake again looking for more food, 
and a second bait will most often mean his 
finish.—Kansas City Journal. 
AFTER RED BEAR IN KASHMIR. 
We were a party of four on the march up into 
the high mountains of Baltistan after ibex. By 
“party - ’ I do not mean that our interests were 
only for the common good, for we each had our 
own servants, shikaris, ponies, and “bundobust” 
generally; but, though we traveled together, it 
was a case of covertly racing for our destina¬ 
tion to secure a good nullah which should not 
be too far distant. This racing was rather 
amusing, for each man’s shikari got his master 
up and on the road betimes, and at the halting 
place the last men on the road would gener¬ 
ally pitch their tent furthest to the front, giv¬ 
ing as a reason that the site was drier, warmer, 
more sheltered, etc. 
Our party formed by chance at a staging 
bungalow under the first pass we had to cross. 
Two men had been there some days, unable to 
cross, and had spent the time in looking for 
red bear, which the ground round about was 
supposed to hold in good numbers. Still, they 
had had no luck beyond giving their nether 
limbs some first-class practice in walking on a 
hillside. Therefore, on our arrival we all de¬ 
termined to push on the next day, in spite of 
the route being hardly open. 
There was an early start to cross the snow 
on the top of the pass before the sun had 
become powerful enough to make it bad going 
for our heavily laden ponies. Liking walking 
for its own sake, I, being on foot, soon left 
my companions behind, since they were riding, 
and their mounts found much difficulty in cross¬ 
ing the steep, stony nullahs and banks of frozen 
snow. At the start the scenery was very fine. 
Looking down from the bungalow one saw a 
long, grassy valley, with a big torrent now and 
then losing itself under a snow bridge—a rem¬ 
nant of last winter’s severity—on each side 
rugged, precipitous hills covered with snow, 
and at the end of the vista a beautiful conical 
peak—its summit all a rosy red from the dawn 
—filled in apparently the whole end of the 
valley. On the other hand was the road to 
Gilgit and the west, winding up the snowy pass 
behind the bungalow. Our road, however, was 
not up this, but at right angles, up a steep 
ravine to the north. Here the scenery was 
rugged and wild without being grand, for the 
view was confined to the rocky walls of the 
winding ravine we were going up. The only 
wild life were some birds, something like larks 
and a few marmots, who screeched defiance 
from a distance; but they were too wary to 
allow themselves to be shot, darting down their 
holes with an extra little screech of “Sold 
again,” so as to say, at every attempt of the 
stranger to draw closer. 
At the top there was a very fine panorama 
of snowy mountain tops, conspicuous among 
which was Nanga Parbat—the naked mountain, 
thus named on account of its peak soaring up 
into the sky—looking beautiful in the early 
morning light, with the sun shining on its 
thousands of feet of snow and glacier. This 
mountain lies on the boundary of Astore and 
Chilas, and must have been fifty miles distant, 
in spite of which its general shape was beauti¬ 
fully clear and distinct. 
It was just here I overtook another man who 
had also been looking for bear in these hills 
under the pass, and, having had no luck either, 
he was pushing on. So we went on together, 
holding an animated conversation about various 
mutual friends we had, as he was in a station I 
had till lately been living in. This we reached 
the brow of the pass, and were scanning the 
prospect of the Deosai Plateau—and a more 
bleak, bare, inhospitable place it has not been 
my lot to behold. The whole place is quite 
devoid of life, and is a bare plain surrounded 
by a ring of freezing, snow-clad peaks, not a 
bush, or tree, or even flower, only grass. Sud¬ 
denly my tiffin coolie caught my arm. “Look, 
sir, red bear!” and there, sure enough, some 
r,20O yards away, merely two small brown 
splodges, which moved about among the patches 
of snow below. 
The bears were feeding—on the very road we 
were marching along. There was a lake covered 
with soft, pulpy snow on the right, and on the 
left a steep slope upward, covered with snow 
and intersected by several small ravines running 
down into the lake. At our feet was a steep 
snow slope, down which we glissaded for some 
200 yards, and thence we moved along the 
slope above the bears, crawling over the 
snow and recovering our breath in the de¬ 
pressions till a position 500 yards from the 
quarry was reached. But from this place we 
had then to traverse some sixty yards of per¬ 
fectly open ground in full view of the bears be¬ 
fore reaching a very small friendly nullah which 
ran obliquely toward them. My companion’s 
shikari, who was quite a young man, insisted on 
our firing at once. We replied that that was a 
useless procedure, for if we did hit the animals 
they would only be wounded, and probably es¬ 
cape, to die a lingering death far away, and we 
should never get their skins. Much better to 
try for a fair shot, and if they escaped while 
we were getting nearer, they might afford grati¬ 
fication to some other man another day. 
So singly we worked our way forward into 
this depression in front, and slowly got up to 
a favorable position only 200 yards away. The 
bears, quite unsuspecting, had their backs 
turned to us. My companion whispered, 
“Which will you take?” As I was on the left, 
I said I would take the one on the left. At 
that moment his animal turned broadside on 
to him, and he fired. I fired also, though I only 
had a Mannlicher (with a 12-bore loaded with 
Lyons’ bullets in reserve), and the only part 
of the animal I could fire at was the tail, as he 
was looking the other way. However, he went 
and sat on the edge of the lake; so, giving him 
a second bullet, I rushed closer, thinking him 
done for. But as the second bear was slowly 
making away up hill, and not wanting to get 
close underneath him, I fired three or four 
bullets at him, when the other man, going close, 
finished him off. 
Then looking round at my beast, whnt was 
my astonishment to see him making off at a 
slow trot. Greatly excited, I also dashed in 
pursuit, instead of quietly firing, for after a 
hundred yards’ running at an elevation of 13,000 
feet, I got hopelessly winded, after which try¬ 
ing to shoot was a farce, with the foresight de¬ 
scribing circles of a foot and more in diameter. 
So the only thing to do was to follow up the 
tracks, which was easy in the snow. The ani¬ 
mal, after skirting the lake, crossed several 
small hills, up each of which he went, inclining 
to the right on the slope, as his near hind leg 
was useless, and then at the top he doubled 
back along the top. This gave me the impres¬ 
sion that he wanted to get to some place on the 
left. After a time, on the last ridge, which was 
a rocky one with no snow on it, we lost the 
tracks, and the tiffin coolie was all for going 
back, as he said the animal must have gone 
right away. But as the hill dominated a wide 
plain, which we searched without result with the 
glasses, and from the way he had gone up the 
intervening hills, I thought he must have made 
off to the left. 
So to the left we went, and at the very end 
of the hill we saw him lying up in some rocks 
high up. Getting close to make sure this time, 
I let him have two bullets, whereupon he got 
up with a grunt, toppled over the top of the 
ridge, and we found him dead below. 
My shikari, arriving soon after, saw the cap¬ 
ture with great delight, saying that now, having 
killed the first animal we had seen, we should 
have good luck on our trip, which turned out 
true, for a wonder. The first bullet we found 
had broken the hip joint and raked three-parts 
of the body. Nevertheless, he had led us a 
chase of several miles over several steep hills, 
thus exhibiting that tenacity of life character¬ 
istic of most wild animals.—The Field. 
The Forest and Stream may be obtained from any 
newsdealer on order. Ask your dealer to supply you 
regularly. 
l lubricates properly the sensitive mechanism. 
/With perfect action the reel never fails at a< 
critical moment. ** 3 in One ” wont gum. dry ^ 
out, contains no acid. “3 in One ” prevents 
rust on every part, add¬ 
ing years to the life, and 
brightness to the beauty | 
of even the finest. Good ' 
for the rod too—preserves 
the wood, promoting plia¬ 
bility—protects the metal. 
Good for fisher also—the / 
delicate, pleasant odor j 
keeps off mosquitos. 
REAL 
REEL 
All Gar%e 
w. P. Fuller & Co. 
JTDealers 
San Francisco, Cal 
Agrenta 
HUNTSM 
Keeji, 
(Sonditi 
\ED DIXON’S GRAPHITE 
Jock mechanism in perfect 
ite. Booklet 
JERSEY OTY M A 
Book Exchange. 
Advertisements of old books which are out of print, 
or of second-hand books, for sale, exchange or wanted, 
will be inserted in Forest and Stream at 20 cents a line. 
There are about 7 words to the line, and 14 agate lines 
to the inch. 
YACHT AND BOAT SAILING —By the late Dixon 
Kemp; 10th edition; published 1904. We have a copy in 
fairly good condition, published at $12, which we will 
sell for $9.00. 
Forest and Stream Publishing Co. 
WANTED.—A good copy in original binding of “Wah 
to Yah; or the Taos Trail,” by L. H. Garrard, Cin¬ 
cinnati. 1850. Address, with description and price: 
A. READER, care Forest and Stream Publishing Co. 
SPORT INDEED —By Thomas Martindale, with illus¬ 
trations from photographs by the author. Price, $1.25. 
Address X. Y., care Forest and Stream. 
OUR FANCY PIGEONS, and Rambling Notes of a 
Naturalist. By Geo. Ure. Published 1886. Cover soiled. 
Price, $1.25. Sale price, 60 cents. Address Box 27, care 
Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 
THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS— By Frank E. Kellogg. 
Illustrated by J. W. Kennedy, and reproductions of 
Audubon plates, published 1900. In good condition. 
Trice, $1.00. Address ”Z.,” care Forest and Stream 
Pub. Co. 
WANTED. 
Coues’ Furbearing Animals, Washington, D. C. 
Caton’s Antelope and Deer of America. 
Schultz —My Life as an Indian. 
Apply, with price, W. G. D., care Forest and Stream 
Publishing Company. 
A few shop-worn, soiled cover and slightly 
damaged books. 
Regular Sale 
Price. Price 
Gnu and Its Development —Greener, 8th ed.4.00 3.00 
Indinu Club Swinging —Miller. 1.00 .50 
Man from Corpus Christl. 1.50 .75 
Supplement to Small Yaehts. 4.00 1.90 
Modern Dors (Terrier)—By Rawdon B. Lee 
1896 edition . 5.00 3.50 
Modern Dors (Non-Sporting)—By Rawdon 
B. Lee. 1894 edition. 5.00 3.50 
Modern Dors (Sporting)—By Rawdon B. 
Lee. 1893 edition. 5.00 3.50 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
127 Franklin St., New York. 
