Camp Comfort 
Its Game and its Ways—Watching for Bears— 
a Commotion on the Lake—Part II. 
By H. H. BRIMLEY 
D HAD served dinner early, and it was not 
m much after i o'clock when we put out on 
our afternoon’s and evening’s work. One 
of the other lakes had been planted in large-mouth 
bass about three years before, and no one had yet 
been able to catch one from it. I had tried it 
several times, and that day had determined to 
try it again. After a walk of a mile and a half 
we came to the landing and launched the tin 
boat, a good enough craft on a mill pond in a 
dead calm, but the wettest boat I ever sat in 
when the ripples were more than three inches 
high. That day they were not more than two 
inches, so all was well, except for its noisiness. 
The bottom boards were loose and one could 
hardly breathe without making a noise that could 
be heard half a mile away. Well, I fished in¬ 
shore among the bushes; all around the dead 
trees and snags lying in the water and out in 
the open. I tried various spoons and several 
varieties of fly, but all to no purpose. So about 
three in the afternoon we went at the real work 
of the day, and that w'as to take a stand in the 
swamp and watch for bear. Bear! What an 
appeal lies in that one little word. I have laid 
in wait for him many a time in these woods and 
swamps, but never yet has that most elusive and 
most shy of all the wild creatures of this section 
showed even a glimpse of his hairy form. Signs 
were plenty, and several have been killed around 
this camp during the past few years, but to me 
bruin himself remains invisible. However, I ex¬ 
pect to keep on trying until one comes my way, 
and then—but that may call for another story. 
The lake is completely surrounded by woods 
and pocosin. We landed in two or three places 
and searched for traces of our prospective game. 
We found lots of sign, but most of it was old, 
and many of the places examined were too thick 
with undergrowth for this kind of shooting. 
What I was looking for was a fairly open place 
in the swamp with plenty of black gum trees 
around, on the berries of which tree the bears 
feed at this time of the year. At last an ideal 
place was discovered. Deer sign was plentiful 
and bear sign fairly so, but the most interesting 
feature was the sight of some fresh tracks in 
several of the patches of soft black mud that 
were conspicuous features of the lower parts of 
the swamp. There were many old logs that had 
been rolled over and torn open by the bears in 
their search for white grub worms. As that 
had been the dryest season on record, the ground 
was pretty dry, and the reed brakes had all 
been killed out by the high water of the previous 
year. These dead and prostrate reeds made the 
noisiest going imaginable. They lay on the 
ground in all directions, were very dry, as brittle 
as glass, and it was practically impossible to 
move among them with any degree of quiet. 
That did not matter so much, however, as we 
were expecting to find a good stand apiece, 
and there wait, with two hours or more to 
sunset. 
D. found a pretty good place near the water, 
while I went in deeper and made my stand on 
a prostrate log, both ends of which had been 
worked on by bears at a not very remote date. 
D. was two or three hundred yards away, and 
his weapon being a pump gun, with buckshot 
loads, I was not uneasy about his shots doing an}' 
damage my way. Mine being a 7 mm. magazine 
rifle, I got his line by a whistle or two and both 
of us prepared for business. First I did what 
I always do on a stand of this character, which 
is to clear a place on the ground down to the 
soft woods mold, so that any necessary shifting 
of the feet in changing position on the approach 
of game can be done without noise. The log 
made a comfortable seat, and with ear and eye 
alert, bruin’s hoped-for approach was awaited 
anxiously. From his perch in a tall poplar over 
my head a fool crow saw me and made enough 
noise to awaken every animal within half a 
mile. Squirrels played and chattered all around, 
bluejays added to the clamor, and some migrat¬ 
ing small birds helped to keep the woods lively. 
It grew very dark in the deep woods as a heavy 
cloud spread over above. By and by the cloud 
dissolved in a shower, and I sought refuge be¬ 
neath a thick holly tree. The shower passed by 
and sunset came on apace—with no bear. I 
began to get uneasy. I knew that we must make 
the landing before it became too dark or we 
would have difficulty in finding it. It was in a 
deep woody bay among scores of others all just 
alike in the fading light. But this was the like¬ 
liest time for bruin to be abroad, so I held on. 
It got darker and darker in the heavy swamp. 
The owls began to hoot, and still the shadows 
deepened. Finally I took out my watch and 
allowed five more minutes. The five minutes 
dragged by all too soon, and the hunt, if it may 
be so called, was over. 
The landing was found without much diffi¬ 
culty, the boat dragged out and turned over, and 
the tramp back begun. Camp was made in good 
order, the dogs fed and watered, supper prepared 
and eaten and D. and I sat down before the 
fire to talk over plans for the morrow. 
Before taking that up it may be well to say 
something about bear hunting in this section of 
the country. “Setting” for them, as just de¬ 
scribed, is about the only practicable way. Hunt¬ 
ing with dogs is almost out of the question by 
reason of the character of the country and its 
many fastnesses and pocosins. The bear, when 
started by hounds—I speak here entirely by 
hearsay, the information having been picked up 
in conversations with many an old bear hunter 
and trapper—invariably makes for the thickest 
and most impenetrable places possible, usually 
the deep pocosins. There he may be brought 
to bay, but how about the hunter getting to him? 
The only way to get through these places is to 
cut through with heavy knife or brier hook, 
which is very slow and makes enough noise to 
cause the bear to break from the dogs and seek 
another thick place. The hunter cannot reach 
him except by accident. I know they are some¬ 
times killed before hounds, and here is an inci¬ 
dent related to me by an eye witness and vouched 
for by others who were present. 
A clearing had been cut through the swamp to 
mark the dividing line between two of these 
eastern counties. A bear was being run by the 
dogs and several of the hunters were stationed 
along this clearing to intercept the bear should 
he try to cross it. All the hunters, or at least 
those , who were the chief actors, were armed 
with shotguns, using of course buckshot loads. 
One of them had fired at the bear with both 
barrels and wounded it. The dogs followed and 
bayed it in the swamp near the clearing. My 
informant, T., was nearby and hurried closer 
just as the bear tore loose from the dogs and 
came rushing back. The man who had wounded 
him headed him off, yvith T. close behind. Out 
came, the bear, wounded, and mad all through, 
and made for the first man direct. He threw up 
his gun and pulled both triggers, one after the 
other, but the gun snapped both times. The bear 
was on him in a moment. Down went the man 
on his back with the bear on top. Instinctively 
he threw up his crossed arms to protect his face, 
which were instantly seized by the bear where 
they crossed. T. was close up, but was afraid 
to shoot for fear of injuring the man. Finally 
his chance came, and he put both loads through 
the bear’s body near the right place. The bear 
died there and then with the man’s crossed arms 
still between his jaws. The arms of his victim 
were badly lacerated, and it was thought at the 
time that one of them at least was permanently 
