Chapter X: The Bear (ursus) (1)

This is one of the oldest animals in history, and it has survived the attacks of man far more successfully than the more noble beast the lion. This survival may probably result from the secluded habits of the bear, which cannot be classed among the destroyers, such as the carnivora, although it is dangerous when hunted, and not unfrequently it attacks man without any provocation.

The nature of most animals may be judged by the formation of their teeth; those of the bear declare its omnivorous propensities--

In the upper jaw 12 molars, 2 canine, 6 incisors.

In the lower jaw 14 molars, 2 canine, 6 incisors.

There are so many varieties of the bear that it is impossible exactly to define the food of the species. We see the polar bear (Ursus maritimus), which, living upon seals and fish, differs from all others; the grizzly bear (Ursus ferox) of Western America, which will eat flesh when it can obtain it, but is a feeder upon roots and berries. Nearly all bears are inclined to vegetable food and insects, accepting flesh when they find the freshly killed body of an animal, but not seeking live creatures to kill and eat. The sloth bear of India is an exception to this rule, as it refuses flesh, and lives simply upon fruits, berries, leaves of certain trees, roots, and insects of all kinds, the favourite bonne bouche being the nest of white ants (Termites), for which it will dig a large hole in the hardest soil to a depth of 2 or 3 feet. The molars of bears have a close resemblance to those of a human being, exhibiting a grinding surface for the mastication of all manner of substances. The nose is used as a snout, for turning over stones which lie upon the surface, in search of insects, slugs, worms, and other creatures, as nothing comes amiss to the appetite of a bear.

The claws of the fore paws are three or four inches in length, and are useful implements for digging. It is astonishing to see the result upon soil that would require a pick-axe to excavate a hole. Upon the hard sides of such pits as those made in search of white ants, the claw-marks are deeply imprinted, showing the labour that has been expended for a most trifling prize, as the nest when found would only yield a few mouthfuls. I have never appreciated the name of "sloth bear" given to Ursus labiatus, as it is a creature that works hard for its food throughout the year, and being an inhabitant of the tropics, it never hybernates. This species is very active, and although it refuses flesh, it is one of the most mischievous of its kind, as it will frequently attack man without the slightest reason, but from sheer pugnacity. A full-grown male weighs from 280 to 300 lbs. The skin is exceedingly thick and heavy. The hair is long and coarse, with a bunch upon its back of at least 7 inches in length, but there is a total absence of fur, therefore the hide has no commercial value. The chest is marked by a peculiar pattern in whitish brown, resembling a horse-shoe, which is the mark for aim when the animal rears upon its hind legs to attack. There are five claws upon the fore feet, and the same number upon the hinder paws. Although these are not retractile, neither are they so curved or sharp as those of the genus Felis; they inflict terrible wounds upon a human being, and when the head of a man has been in a bear's grip it has generally been completely scalped. I have heard of more than one instance where the scalp has been torn from the back of the neck and pulled over the eyes, as though it had been a wig.

The Ursus labiatus seldom produces more than two or three at a birth, and the young cub is extremely ugly, but immensely powerful in limbs and claws. I have seen a very young animal which held on to the inside of its basket when inverted, and although shaken with great force, nothing would dislodge its tenacious clutch; this specimen was about six weeks old.

Although many varieties of bears are tree-climbers, there are others which are contented with the ground, and which could not ascend a tree even should they be tempted by its fruit. The grizzly bear (Ursus ferox) belongs to this class, and his enormous weight would at any time necessitate especial care when experimenting upon the strength of boughs. I do not believe that any person has actually weighed a grizzly, but an approximate idea may be obtained through a comparison with the polar bear (Ursus maritimus), which is somewhat equal in size, probably superior. When I was in California, experienced informants assured me that no true grizzly bear was to be found east of the Pacific slope, and that Lord Coke was the only Britisher who had ever killed a real grizzly in California. There are numerous bears of three if not four varieties in the Rocky Mountains, and these are frequently termed grizzlies, as a misnomer; but the true grizzly is far superior in size, although similar in habits, and his weight varies from 1200 to 1400 lbs.

Mr. Lamont, in his interesting work Yachting in the Arctic Seas, gives the most accurate account of all Arctic animals that he killed, and having the advantage of his own yacht, he was able to weigh the various beasts, and thus afford the most valuable information in detail. This is his account of a polar bear (Ursus maritimus) which he himself killed :-

"He was so large and heavy that we had to fix the ice-anchor, and drag him up with block and tackle, as if he had been a walrus. This was an enormous old male bear, and measured upwards of 8 feet in length, almost as much in circumference, and 4 1/2 feet at the shoulder; his fore paws were 34 inches in circumference, and had very long, sharp, and powerful nails; his hair was beautifully thick, long, and white, and hung several inches over his feet. He was in very high condition, and produced nearly 400 lbs. of fat; his skin weighed upwards of 100 lbs., and the entire carcase of the animal cannot have been less than 1600 lbs."

This weight is equivalent to a large-sized English cart-horse. I have seen one of the skins procured by Mr. Lamont, and I can readily appreciate his account of the weight. I have also seen a skin of a grizzly bear killed at Alaska by Sir Thomas Hesketh; this was cured by Mr. Rowland Ward, who showed it to me at his establishment, 160 Piccadilly, and it was very little inferior to the skin of the polar bear. I quite believe the accounts I have received in California are correct, and that the grizzly may sometimes exceed 1400 lbs. in weight. There is a considerable difference in size between the male and female, the former being superior. Like all other animals, the mother is particularly attached to her young, and when in company with them she is more than ordinarily ferocious, as she appears to suspect every stranger of some hostile intentions towards her offspring.

The increase of population in many countries has resulted in the destruction of all animals that were considered dangerous to man; thus the wolf and the bear have both disappeared from Great Britain, and they have become scarce in France.

Thirty-five years ago, I was in a wild portion of the Pyrenees, in the hope of finding bears at the first snows of winter, when by extreme bad luck a fall took place so suddenly and severe that a pass was blocked, which prevented my arrival at a narrow valley, between the lofty mountains named Tram-Saig. I had been assured that the bears would hybernate at the commencement of winter, and that they could only be found at the season when the first snow-fall would expose their tracks.

On the following day I managed to get through the pass, and to my intense disgust, upon arrival, I found that I was a day too late, as the Maire, who was a great chasseur, had killed two bears, a mother and half-grown young one, on the preceding day, thus verifying the information I had received.

I saw the freshly killed skins pegged out to dry, and a few days later I ate a portion of the paws in an excellent stew when dining with the Prefect of Bagneres-de-Bigorre, to whom they were forwarded as an esteemed present.

The larger bear-skin gave me the impression that the original owner must have been the size of a heifer twelve or fifteen months old. This was the ordinary brown bear of Europe, which still exists in Transylvania, Hungary, Italy, and especially in Turkey. The same bear inhabits Asia Minor, and both these varieties hybernate at the commencement of winter. In the extensive forests and mountains about Sabanja, beyond the Gulf of Ismid, I have seen the wild fruit trees severely injured by the brown bears, which ascend in search of cherries, plums, apples, walnuts, and sweet chestnuts. The heavy animal knows full well that the extremity of the boughs will not support its weight, it therefore stands erect upon a strong limb and tears down the smaller fruit-laden branches within its reach. Although bears are numerous throughout the forests, there is only one season when they can be successfully hunted; this is in late autumn, when the fruits are closing their maturity, and the apples and nuts are falling to the ground. The bears then descend from the mountain heights, and may be found late in the evening or before sunrise in the neighbourhood of such food.

Asia Minor and Syria possess two distinct varieties of bears, although the countries are closely connected, and these animals are not inhabitants of the same district. The Syrian bear is smaller than the ordinary brown bear, and would hardly exceed 300 lbs. in weight. The fur is a mixed and disagreeable colour, a dusky gray of somewhat rusty appearance, but blanched in portions as though by age. This species is to be found at the present day upon Mount Horeb, and the natives assured me that, when the grapes are ripe, it is necessary to protect them by watchers armed with guns, to scare the bears during night.

Wild animals which hybernate have a peculiar instinct for selecting hiding-places, which can seldom be discovered; in these they lie, free from all intrusion.

The fruits of late autumn fatten the bear to a maximum condition, and when the harvest is over, and the ground is covered with a dense sheet of snow, it retires to some well-known cave, high among the mountains, in such undisturbed seclusion that it is seldom visited by the foot of man. Within a cave, nestled in ferns or withered leaves and grass, the fatted bruin curls itself to sleep throughout the winter months, and the warmth necessary to its existence is supplied by its own fat, which, being rich in carbon, supports vitality at the expense of exhaustion of supply.

If the fat bear could see itself previous to hybernation in November, and again be introduced to its own photograph upon awakening from its sleep in March, it would be prepared to swear against its own identity. It arises from its winter's nap in wretched condition, having lived entirely upon capital instead of income. Young shoots, and leaves of spring, wild tubers which it scratches from the ground, detected by its keen sense of smell, together with snails, beetles, worms, and everything that creeps upon the earth, now form the bill of fare, until the summer brings forth the welcome fruits that reproduce the condition which the bear had lost through hybernation.

It is impossible to unravel many of the mysteries of Nature, and the cause which prompts the instinct of a winter's sleep will always remain doubtful. I should myself attribute hybernation to the necessity of repose at a period when food was impossible to procure. The body can exist for an incredible length of time, provided that it is capable of undisturbed rest, which appears in a certain degree to take the place of extraneous nutriment. It is well known that every exertion of the muscles is a loss of power, the force of the body being represented by heat. To lift a weight or to move a limb requires a certain expenditure of heat, which means force; this loss of heat and power is recuperated by food; thus in the absence of provisions for the necessary supply, there would be no loss of heat if there is no exertion. Sleep is the resource, as the body is not only at rest, but the brain is also tranquil; there is accordingly a minimum of exhaustion. Human beings have been known to live without food of any kind (excepting water) for a period of forty days, and have then resumed their ordinary course, simply confining themselves to moderate diet for the first few days after their long abstinence. In a time of starvation in Africa I have frequently composed myself to sleep in the absence of my daily food, and I have awoke without any disagreeable craving for a meal. Continued sleep will to a certain extent render the body independent of other nutriment, and I should imagine that the custom of hybernation has been induced by necessity. At a season when the fruits of the earth are exhausted, the ground frozen to a degree that would render scratching for roots impossible, an animal that was dependent upon such productions for its existence must either starve or sleep. The sleep is in itself a first stage of the process of starvation. The creature that can sleep through an existence of four months without food, and lose the whole of its fat during that interval of inaction, has already lost all that supported life during the period of total abstinence--the fat, or carbon. If it were to begin another turn of sleep in its exhausted state, it would be unable to support its existence.

I therefore regard hybernation as the result of the highest physical condition, the animal being thoroughly fat; the food ceases, and the beast, knowing this fact, lays itself down to sleep, and exists upon its own fat, which gradually disappears during the interval of starvation. The bear wakes up in spring with a ragged ill-conditioned skin, instead of the glossy fur with which it nestled into rest; and it finds its coat a few sizes too large, until an industrious search for food shall have restored its figure to its original rotund proportions.

The proof of this necessity for repose during a period of enforced abstinence will be observed in the independence of tropical bears, which do not hybernate, for the best of all reasons, "that there is no winter," therefore they can procure their usual food throughout every season without difficulty or interruption.

The animals of America are all exaggerated specimens of the species, and the grizzly bear, if standing by the side of the ordinary brown bear of Northern Europe, would hardly exhibit any striking difference except in superior size and a slight roughness of colour. I have heard the question frequently discussed when in the Big Horn range of the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming; some of the professional hunters term all bears grizzlies, while others deny the existence of the true grizzly except upon the Pacific slope.

There is no doubt that all the American bears will eat flesh whenever they can obtain it, although they do not pursue animals as objects for food. The usual custom in bear-shooting is to kill a black-tail deer and to leave the body untouched. If this course is pursued throughout the day, three or four deer may have been shot in various localities, and these will lie as baits for the bears.

At daybreak on the following morning the hunter visits his baits, and he will probably find that the bears have been extremely busy during the night in scratching a hole somewhat like a shallow grave or trench, in which they have rolled the carcase; they have then covered it with earth and grass, and in many cases the bears may be discovered either in the act of working, or having completed their labour, they may be lying down asleep half gorged with flesh, and resting upon their own handiwork. In this position it is not difficult to obtain a shot.

When I was in the Big Horn range in 1881 several shooting parties had preceded me on the two previous seasons, and the bears had been worried to such an extent that they were extremely cautious and wary. There was a small party of professional skin hunters who were camped within a mile of my position, consisting of two partners, Big Bill and Bob Stewart. The latter went by the name of Little Bob, in contrast to his enormous companion. Bob was of Scotch extraction; he was about 5 feet 5 inches in height, very slight, and as active as a cat. In his knowledge of every living creature upon the mountains he was perfect; from the smallest insect to the largest beast he was an infallible authority. Bob was a trapper and hunter; he followed the different branches of these pursuits according to the seasons; at one time he would be trapping beavers and red foxes, at another he would be shooting deer for the value of their hides. This cruel and wasteful practice I shall speak of in another portion of this work.

His only weapon was a single-barrelled Sharp's .450 rifle, and he possessed the most lovely mare, beautifully trained for shooting, and not exceeding 14 1/2 hands in height. Little Bob, on his little mare, would have formed a picture. On one occasion I had returned to camp a little after 5.30 P.M., and as the sun sank low, the deep shadows of the hills darkened our side of the narrow glen, and by 6 o'clock we were reduced to a dim twilight. Presently, in this uninhabited region, a figure halted within 15 paces of our tent, which was evidently Bob Stewart, mounted upon some peculiar animal of enormous bulk, but with a very lovely high-bred-looking head. This was Bob's pretty mare, loaded, and most carefully packed with the trophies of his day's sport, as a solitary hunter, quite alone and unaided since 8 A.M. His pony carried the skins of three bears and four black-tail deer, which he had shot, skinned, and packed upon his sturdy little companion.

The bears consisted of a mother and two half-grown young ones of the choice variety known as "silver-tipped." He had come across the family by chance while riding through the forest, and having shot the mother through the shoulder, she fell struggling between her cubs; these pugnacious brutes immediately commenced fighting, and a couple of shots from the rapid breechloading Sharp rifle settled their ill-timed quarrel.

Bob was the most dexterous skinner I ever saw; he would take off a skin from a deer or bear as naturally as most persons would take off their clothes; and the fact of a man, unassisted, flaying seven animals, and arranging them neatly upon the Mexican saddle, would have been a tolerable amount of labour without the difficulty of first finding and then successfully shooting them.

The hide of the largest bear would weigh fully 50 lbs., those of the smaller 25 lbs. each = 100 lbs. The four black-tail deer would weigh fully 50 lbs. Therefore the mare was carrying 150 lbs. of hides, in addition to Bob Stewart, who weighed about 9 stone, making a total of about 276 lbs., irrespective of his rifle and ammunition.

It was a strange country; the elevation of our camp was about 10,000 feet above the sea-level, although we were in a deep and narrow glen, close to a very small stream of beautifully clear water. Upon either side the valley, the hills rose about 1400 feet; at that season (September) the summits were in some places capped with snow. The sides of the hills, sloping towards the glen, were either covered with forests of spruce firs, or broken into patches of prairie grass and sage bush, the latter about as high as the strongest heather, and equally tough and tiresome.

The so-called camp was upon an extremely limited scale; a little sleeping tent only 7 feet by 7, and 5 feet 8 inches in the highest portion; this had no walls, but was simply an incline from the ridge-pole to the ground; it was a single cloth, without lining of any kind, and bitterly cold at night. This was rough work for a lady, especially as our people had no idea of making things comfortable, or of volunteering any service. If ordered to come, they came; to go, they went; to do this or that, they did it; but there was no attempt upon their part to do more than was absolutely required of them. Shooting in the Big Horn range is generally conducted upon this uncomfortable plan. It is most difficult to obtain either men or animals; but, although useless fellows for any assistance in camp, they were excellent for looking after the horses and mules, all of which require strict attention.

We had only four men, all told--my hunter Jem Bourne, the cook Henry (a German), Texas Bill, who was a splendid young fellow, and Gaylord.

Although I have travelled for very many years through some of the roughest portions of the world, I have always had a considerable following, and I confess to disliking so small a party. Including my wife, we were only six persons, and it was impossible to consume the flesh of the animals killed. I cannot shoot to waste; therefore upon many occasions I declined to take the shots, and thus lost numerous opportunities of collecting splendid heads; this destroyed much of the pleasure which I had anticipated. There were no Indians, as they are confined to their reservations; therefore it was almost criminal to destroy wantonly a number of splendid beasts, which would rot upon the ground and be absolutely wasted. Several parties of Englishmen had not been so merciful; therefore the Americans had no scruples, and commenced an onslaught, general and indiscriminate, shooting all animals, without distinction of age or sex, merely for the value of the skins; the carcases of magnificent fat deer were left to putrefy, or to become the food of the over-satiated bears, which themselves fell victims in their turn.

This was the slaughter in which Bob Stewart and Big Bill were engaged in partnership. They never shot in company, but each started upon his independent course at 8 or 9 o'clock A.M., after having employed themselves since daylight in pegging out the skins to dry, that had been shot on the previous day. The most valuable of the deer-skins was the black-tail, which realised, at a price per lb., 11s. This hide is used for making a very superior quality of glove, much prized in California.

I strolled over to the camp of the two partners one morning, as I was on the way to shoot, and I found them engaged in arranging their vast masses of skins, all of which were neatly folded up, perfectly dry, without any other preparation than exposure to the keen dry air of this high altitude.

Upon my inquiry of Big Bill respecting his operations on the previous day, he replied that he "guessed he had been occupied in running away from the biggest grizzly bear that ever was cubbed."

Big Bill was a Swede by parentage, born in the States. By trade he was a carpenter, but he had of late years taken to skin-hunting. He was an enormous fellow, about 6 feet 3 or 4, with huge shoulders and long muscular arms and hands. There was no harm in Bill; he was a first-rate shot with his .450 Sharp rifle, which appeared to be the weapon in general favour; but he had met with an adventure during the previous year which made him rather suspicious of strangers.

Somewhere, not far from his present camp, a mounted stranger dropped in late one evening. The man was riding a good horse, but was quite alone; so also was Big Bill. The camp of the skin-hunter was then the same in appearance as when I saw him and his partner Bob Stewart--simplicity itself; a long spruce pole was lashed at either end to two spruce firs; against this, leaning at an angle of about 45 degrees, were sixty or seventy straight poles laid close together, and upon these were arranged spruce boughs to form a thatch. This lean-to provided a tolerable shelter within the forest, when the wind was sufficiently considerate to blow at the back against the thatch, instead of direct towards the open face. The ground in the acute angle was strewed with branches of spruce, and a large fire was kept burning during night, exactly in front, the whole arrangement exhibiting the principle of a Dutch oven.

In such a camp, Big Bill received the stranger with the hospitality of the wilderness, and they laid themselves down to rest in the close companionship of newly-made friends.

The morning broke, and as Big Bill rubbed his eyes with mute astonishment, he could not see his friend. He rose from his sleeping-place, and went outside in the cold morning air; he could not see his horses. A horrible suspicion seized upon him; he searched the immediate neighbourhood; the animals had vanished, both horses and mules were gone, together with the unknown stranger, to whom he had given food and shelter for the night.

Fortunately there was a particular horse which Big Bill for special reasons kept separate from the rest; this animal was picqueted by itself among the spruce firs at some little distance, and had been unobserved by the departed stranger. To saddle the horse, and to follow in pursuit at the highest speed upon the trail of the horse-stealer, was the work of only a few minutes. The track was plain enough in the morning dew, where ten or a dozen mules and horses had brushed through the low prairie grass. Big Bill went at a gallop, and he knew that he must quickly overtake them; his only doubt lay in the suspicion that there might be confederates, and that a strong party might have joined together to secure the prize, instead of the solitary stranger being in charge. However, at all hazards he pushed on at best speed in chase; at the same time, the horse-stealer, thoroughly experienced in his profession, was driving his ill-gotten herd before him at a gentle trot, thoroughly convinced that it would be impossible to be overtaken, as the owner had been left (as he supposed) without a horse.

At length, after a pursuit of some hours, upon attaining the summit of a broad eminence, Big Bill's eyes were gladdened by the sight of some distant objects moving upon the horizon, and he at once redoubled his speed.

The stranger, innocent of suspicion, trotted leisurely forward, whistling, and driving his newly acquired animals with professional composure, without condescending to look back, as he felt certain of security, having left his hospitable friend of the preceding night with nothing better than his own legs for locomotion.

In the meantime, Big Bill was coming up at a gallop; he was boiling with indignation at the treacherous conduct of his uninvited guest; and being fully alive to the manners and customs of the West, he placed his Sharp rifle upon full-cock to be in readiness for an explanation.

A few minutes sufficed to shorten the distance to 100 yards, when the astonished horse-stealer was surprised by the sound of hoofs upon the stony soil, and, turning round, he was almost immediately confronted with the threatening figure of Big Bill. The dialogue which ensued has not been historically described; there was none of the bombast that generally preceded the combats of Grecian heroes; but it appears that the horse-stealer's right hand instinctively grasped the handle of his revolver, not unseen by the vigilant eyes of Big Bill, who with praiseworthy decision sent a bullet through his adversary's chest from the already prepared Sharp .450; leaving the lifeless body where it fell, he not only recovered all his stolen animals, but also possessed himself of the horse and saddle which only recently belonged to the prairie horse-stealer without a name.

The gigantic Swede returned to his solitary camp, well satisfied with his morning's work, as he had gained instead of losing, and he had saved the State of Wyoming the expense and trouble of hanging a man for a crime which is supposed to deserve no mercy, that of "horse-stealing."

Of course this instance of determination and extreme vigilance gained for Big Bill the admiration of the extremely limited number of people who would be called "the public" in the outlying portions of Wyoming; but although contented with himself, Big Bill was always suspicious of a solitary stranger, as he had an undefined idea that some relative of the defunct horse-dealer might draw a trigger upon him unawares. It was this redoubtable Big Bill who now confided to me that he had been running away from some monster grizzly bear only on the preceding day. He pointed out the spot, as nearly as possible, from where we stood during his narrative. "There," he said, "do you see that low rocky cliff on the tip top of the hill just above us? That was the place just beneath, on that little terrace-like projection with a few spruce firs upon it. There's a steep but not a difficult way down by the side of that cliff, and when young Edmund and I got down upon that terrace, there were a lot of big rocks lying about, and all of a sudden one of 'em stood up on end within 10 yards of me, and sat up regularly smiling at me, with the most innocent and amiable expression of countenance I ever saw. That was the biggest grizzly bear I ever came across; he was as big as the biggest bull I ever saw in the ranche, and there he was, sitting up on end like a dog, and almost laughing. There was no laugh in me, I can tell you; I just lost no time, but turned round, and hooked it; and I don't think I ever ran so fast in all my life."

"But why did you not shoot him?" I exclaimed with astonishment. "Shoot him? Oh yes, that's very likely, when he wasn't farther than 10 yards off, and I should have had such a poor start, and no place to run to! No, I knew better than that, with a single-barrel Sharp .450. If I had had your double-barrel .577, with a big solid bullet, and 6 drams of powder, I shouldn't have run away; but I go hunting for skins with my little Sharp, and I don't want a grizzly to go hunting for my skin; not if I know it. I've left him for you, and d'ye see, if you go up there this morning, there's some snow about, and you'll likely come across his tracks. If you do, you'll be astonished, I can tell you."

Ten minutes after this discourse, I was on my way up the mountain side in the hope of meeting this extraordinary bear.

Upon arrival at the summit, there was a splendid view of the main range of the Rocky Mountains, about 70 miles distant, across a desolate region some 4000 feet below the point upon which we stood. There was a little snow, but only in patches on the mountain top, and, when near the terrace upon which Big Bill had had his interview with the bear, we certainly discovered an enormous track, the largest that I have ever seen.

We attempted to follow this for some hours, but to no purpose; on several occasions I could have taken deadly shots at black-tail deer and wapiti, but I determined to reserve my bullet for the big game, the object of our pursuit. The day passed away in failure. The next day was equally disappointing; from morning to sunset I fagged over the summits and the spruce fir sides of the mountains, without a trace of the big bear. We passed the old traces that we had seen the previous day upon the snow, but they were still more indistinct, and there was nothing fresh. I was determined, if possible, to find this bear, therefore I devoted a third day to the pursuit, discarding all other game. On the third morning I started with Texas Bill and Jem Bourne, all mounted, and we rode by a circuitous route to the summit of the hill above the valley of our camp. The snow had melted in most places, leaving only small half-thawed patches. We had so thoroughly explored the entire hillside for a distance of several miles during the last two days, that I arranged a beat on the other side of the mountain, upon the northern slope, facing the far-distant Rocky Mountains.

There were no spruce forests upon this side, but the long incline was merely a sheet of rough prairie grass about 18 inches high, intersected by deep ravines, filled with dwarf cotton-wood trees, resembling the silver-barked black poplar. These trees grew about 25 feet high, and as thick as a man's arm, but so close together that it was difficult to force a way through on horseback.

There were many isolated patches of this covert in various places upon the face of this northern slope, all of which were likely to harbour bears or other game. My eye caught instinctively a long dark ravine which cut the mountain from top to base, extending several miles; this was intersected about a mile and a half from the summit by a smaller ravine, also springing from the drainage of the highest ridge, and at the point of junction the two formed a letter Y, the tail continuing, widened by the increased flow of water. There was at this season a very slight stream about an inch in depth, which resulted from the melting of the small amount of snow upon the heights.

There could not be a more likely place for bears, and I instructed my two men to ride to the bottom of the ravine, and to force their horses through the thornless thicket, making no other noise, but occasionally to tap the stems of trees with the handles of their whips.

I dismounted, and my well-trained horse followed close behind me down the steep hillside, exactly on the border of the ravine. This was not more than 80 yards across; thus I could command both sides should a bear break covert, when disturbed by my two beaters; there could not have been a more favourable locality.

My men were thoroughly experienced, and the noise made by the horses in struggling over stones and in rustling through the cotton-wood trees was quite sufficient to disturb any animals that might have been there; accordingly they seldom tapped the tree-stems.

Black-tail deer were very plentiful; these were about the size of an ordinary fallow-deer, and they were extremely fat and delicious venison; but their horns were still in velvet, and would not be clean until October. I could have shot several of these animals; but I was full of good resolutions to resist all temptation, and to restrict my shooting to the long-sought bear.

We had followed the course of the ravine for about a mile, when I suddenly heard a tremendous rush among the cotton trees beneath me on the right, followed by excited shouts--"Look out! look out! A bear! a bear!"

I halted immediately, and in a few seconds three splendid wapiti stags broke covert about 100 yards before me, and at full gallop passed across the open ground by which I was descending. My good resolutions crowded upon me as I instinctively aimed at the stag with the finest head, and I resisted the temptation nobly until they were nearly out of sight, passing down a hollow on my left about 150 yards distant. Somehow or other I pulled the trigger; a cloud of dust suddenly arose from the spot where the three stags had disappeared, and I felt sure that the wapiti was down.

At the sound of the shot my men struggled up the steep ascent and joined me. "Why did you shout 'A bear! a bear!'?" I asked.--"It was a bear, wasn't it? I saw a great brown rump for a moment, and I thought it was the bear."--"No bear at all," I answered, "and I have been fool enough to shoot at a wapiti. . . . I think you will find it just in the hollow beneath the ridge."

The men rode to the spot, and sure enough a magnificent stag was lying dead, shot through the shoulder. A wapiti stag weighs about 900 lbs. when fat in August and September. The fat upon the brisket of this animal was 5 inches thick, and that upon the rump and loins was nearly 3 inches. We cut this off in one complete piece, and when cold, within half an hour it stood up like a cuirass. This was one of the finest that I ever saw, and we took the trouble to cut up all the choicest joints, and concealed them in the branches of a species of yew that was growing upon the edge of the ravine. The delay from my folly in taking this shot exceeded an hour, but the head of the stag was a handsome specimen, and we placed it upon a large boulder of rock, to be sent for upon a future occasion.

We again recommenced our search, comforting ourselves with the reflection that "if the bear was in the ravine, the report of the shot would not affect it; and if it was not in the ravine, it would not matter."

As we continued the descent of the mountain slope, the ravine grew wider, and it was now quite 100 yards across; this would increase the probability of finding game, as there was a larger area of covert at the bottom. I was walking carefully in front of my horse, when, without any alarm given by my men from the bottom of the ravine, my attention was attracted by a rushing sound in the dense cotton trees, and I observed several that were in the thickest part shaking in an extraordinary manner, as though an elephant or a rhinoceros was rubbing itself against the stems.

I ran forward towards the spot, and within 15 paces of me I saw a wapiti stag caught by the horns; these were completely entangled among the stems of the thickly growing trees, and the splendid beast was taken prisoner. I could only see occasionally a portion of the horns, and then, as it struggled to escape, I caught sight for a moment of a head and neck sufficient to prove that it was a very splendid beast, with beautiful spreading antlers. The animal was almost within my grasp, and I could have shot it with a pistol; but my good resolutions stood firm. I refused the shot, as we had meat of the finest quality that would keep for a week, and to kill another wapiti would be mere waste of life. In a couple of minutes occupied with this human reflection, yet sorely tempted to take the shot, the stag broke loose, and I heard it crashing full speed down the ravine, and my men shouting loudly that I should "look out!"

Hardly two minutes elapsed before I saw, at about 300 yards' distance, the most magnificent stag that I have ever seen. This splendid beast issued from the ravine, and exhibited a pair of antlers that, large as the animal was, appeared quite disproportioned to its size. They resembled the wintry appearance of a large branch from an oak tree, and this was the prize which I could not distinctly see when entangled in the cotton-wood, within my grasp. This noble stag descended the mountain side at full speed, and I watched it with longing eyes until it was completely out of sight, fully determined that I would never indulge in good resolutions again, that humanity was humbug, philanthropy puerile, and that the rule of success depended upon the principle "Never lose an opportunity."

I was fairly disgusted with myself, and calling my men, I described to them the magnificence of my lost stag. Instead of consolation they said, "Well, if you're come all this way to shoot, and you won't shoot, I don't quite see the use of your coming." That was all I received as a reward for having spared an animal's life which I did not wish to sacrifice wantonly.

"All right; go back and drive the covert to the end; you may depend upon it I'll take the next shot, whatever it may be." The men rode down the steep sides of the ravine, and we recommenced our beat.

Nothing moved for some time, and I mounted my horse as we were approaching the junction of the smaller ravine on my left, which formed the letter Y. I was about 100 yards ahead of my two men, and I descended into the stony depression, crossed the little stream, and ascended the opposite side with some little difficulty, as it was extremely steep, and, together with my 12 lb. rifle, cartridges, and a 26 lb. Mexican saddle, I rode about 18 stone. We reached the top, from which I could look down into the larger ravine on my right, and the lesser on my left, but a number of large rocks, 3 or 4 feet in height, and others of smaller size, made it difficult for my horse to thread his way. Just at this moment I heard the report of a revolver and shouts in high excitement--"The bear! the bear!" Before I had time to dismount in the awkward position among the rocks, I saw a large bear within two yards of me, as he had run at full speed up the steep bank from the bottom of the ravine without having observed me, owing to the rocks; he therefore passed close to my horse upon the other side, only separated from us by the large rock between. In an instant the bear, having seen the horse, turned to the left, and dashed down hill into the smaller ravine which I had just crossed. I jumped off my horse, and ran along the edge, ready to take a shot the moment that I could obtain a clear view of the bear, which I could see indistinctly as it ran along the bottom of the channel, in which was the trickling stream. As I followed, always keeping the animal within view, I felt certain that it would presently forsake this narrow gully, and would cut across the open to regain the large ravine from which it had been dislodged. I therefore raised the 150 yards sight as I ran along the edge, to be in readiness should it try the open. The bear kept me running at my best to keep it in sight, and I was just beginning to think it advisable to fire through the intervening bushes, when, as I had expected, it suddenly turned to the left, ran up the bank with extreme activity, and appeared upon the steep open grass-land, with the intention of cutting across to the larger hiding-place. This was a splendid chance, as the dark colour of the bear looked well upon the yellow grass. I made a most satisfactory shot with the .577 at 150 yards, the bullet passing through the kidneys, and the bear rolled over and over the whole way down the steep grassy hill, until stopped by the thick bushes, which alone prevented it from rolling into the streamlet at the bottom.

My two men came galloping up, and shortly dismounted, and we all descended to the place where the bear was lying, almost dead. In fact, it died while we were standing over it.

"Well done; that was a fine shot, and we've got the grizzly bear at last," exclaimed Jem Bourne. "THE bear? This is not the bear that Big Bill ran from," I replied; "impossible, this is a silver-tip, and not a true grizzly." The argument that ensued over the carcase of that bear was quite enough to make me an unbeliever in the ordinary accounts of native hunters. I calculated that the body weighed about 600 lbs., as my two men were 6 feet high, and exceedingly powerful, and our united efforts could not move the bear one inch from the spot where it had fallen; it may have exceeded that weight, as it was full of fat, and in the finest condition. We skinned it, and had some trouble to induce the horse to permit the hide to be lashed upon its back. Although a fine bear, Big Bill on our return would not acknowledge that it could be compared with the monster which he had seen with such "a smiling countenance." I was quite of his opinion, as the tracks which I saw in the snow were very much larger than the paws of the bear that I have described.

The foot of a bear leaves a print very similar to that of a human being who happens to be flatfooted, but the breadth is larger in proportion to that of a man. It is a curious fact, that a shot through the kidneys of any creature occasions almost instantaneous death, and the animal falls immediately, as though shot through the neck; this proves the terrible shock to the system, as the body is smitten with a total paralysis.

The opinions of professional hunters differ in such an extraordinary manner upon the question of bears, that it would be impossible for a mere visitor to arrive at a satisfactory decision. It is admitted by all that the grizzly bear is the monarch; next to him in size is the cinnamon bear, named from the colour of its fur; No. 3 is the silver-tipped; and No. 4 is the black bear.

The question to be decided remains: "Is the cinnamon bear the grizzly, with some local difference in colour?" My people called the silver-tipped bears "grizzlies," which was an evident absurdity; but, as they were men experienced in the Big Horn range, it was difficult to disbelieve their evidence concerning the occasional presence of a true grizzly. I found, whilst riding through an extensive forest of spruce fir, an enormous skull of a bear, the largest that I have ever seen, except that of the grizzly, compared with which all others were mere babies; what could this have been, unless a true specimen of that variety?

There can be little doubt that bears of different kinds intermingle occasionally by cross breeds, and many are met with which do not exactly correspond with the colouring which distinguishes the varieties already mentioned; but in my opinion those distinct varieties actually exist, and any departure occasioned by cross breeding is simply an accident. Eighteen months before my visit to the Big Horn range, the present Lord Lonsdale, together with a large party, was hunting upon the same ground, and at that time the country, being new to British sportsmen, was undisturbed. The bears were so numerous and unsophisticated that the party bagged thirty-two, and game of all kinds indigenous to the locality was in the superlative. It is astonishing that any game remains after the persistent attacks of gunners, especially in such countries, where open plains expose the animals to the sight of man. In the Big Horn range, at high altitudes of from 8000 to 12,000 feet, the open grass prairie-ground predominates. There are plateaux and hill-tops; deep canyons or clefts, from 1500 to 2000 feet sheer, like sudden rifts in the earth's surface; long secluded valleys, with forest-covered bottoms extending for many miles, and slopes of every conceivable gradient descending to a lower level of frightfully broken ground, joining the foot of the main range of Rocky Mountains at a distance of from 70 to 90 miles. There are also isolated patches of cotton-wood upon the sides of slopes, which afford excellent covert for deer and bears.

The actual width from margin to margin of the high land does not exceed 26 miles, although the length may be 100. It may readily be imagined that a month's shooting upon this area would be sufficient to scare the animals from the neighbourhood, more especially as the hunters are invariably on horseback, and traverse great distances each day.

When I was there we very seldom found bears upon the open, as they retired to the obscurity of the forests before break of day. Bob Stewart assured me that two seasons ago it was impossible to ride out in the early morning without seeing bears, but he counted up a long reckoning of seventy-two killed since the visit of Lord Lonsdale's party. This must have sensibly diminished the stock, and have afforded considerable experience to the survivors. Nevertheless upon several occasions bears exhibited themselves during broad daylight without being sought for.

We were tired of nothing but venison in every shape, and although the German cook, "little Henry," was a good fellow, he could not manage to change the menu without other provisions in the larder. I accordingly devoted myself one afternoon to shooting "sage-hens"; this is a species of grouse about the size of a domestic fowl, and, when young, there is nothing better. The old birds are not only tough, but they taste too strongly of sage, from subsisting upon the buds and young shoots of the wild plant. They were very numerous in certain localities, having much the same habits as the black game of North Britain, therefore we knew at once where to seek them.

Our camp was within a few feet of the little stream, just within the forest at the bottom of the valley; the dense mass of spruce firs extended for 8 or 10 miles along the slopes, only broken at intervals by gaps a few hundred yards wide, which divided the forest from top to base, and formed admirable places for ascending to the great plateau on the summit. This plateau extended for several miles, and was nearly level, the surface being liberally strewed with stones about 2 feet in length, but exceedingly flat, as though prepared for roofing slates; these had been turned over incessantly by the bears, in search for what Bob Stewart called "bugs"--the general and comprehensive American name for every insect.

We found a number of sage-hens upon this plateau, and I picked out the young ones with my rabbit rifle, as they ran upon the sage-covered ground. Texas Bill was soon loaded with game, and discarding the old birds that had been killed by mistake, we descended the grass-covered gap between the forests, and returned direct to camp. Little Henry had now a change of materials for our dinner.

It was nearly dusk, and I went into the small tent to have a hot bath after the day's work. I was just drying myself, after the operation of washing, when I heard an excited voice shout "Bears! bears!" It was useless for me to ask questions through the canvas, therefore I hurried on my clothes and ran out.

Texas Bill was gone. It appeared that two large bears had been seen as they came along the glen, and turned up the open slope, by which we had descended after shooting the sage-hens. My best horse had not been unsaddled, as the evening was chilly; therefore Texas Bill had immediately jumped into the saddle, and was off in full pursuit.

"What rifle did he take?" I inquired of little Henry. "He didn't take any rifle, but he's got his six-shooter, which is much better in his hands, as he knows it," was the reply.

There was very little light remaining, and with the long start which the bears obtained, I could not think that Bill would have the slightest chance of overhauling them before they reached the forest; this they would assuredly attempt, the instant they saw themselves pursued. If Bill could only get them upon the open plateau on the summit, he might be able to manage them, but with a gallop up a steep hill to commence with, in the late dusk of evening, the odds were decidedly against him.

It became dark, and we expected Bill's return every minute. Jem Bourne, my head man, who was always a grumbler, and exceedingly jealous, began to ventilate his feelings. "A pretty fool he's made of himself to go galloping after bears in a dark night, and nothing but a six-shooter! . . . A nice thing for our best horse to break his legs over those big rocks that nobody can see at night. . . . Well, he'll have to sleep out, and he'll find it pretty cold before the morning, I know. . . . What business he's got to take that horse without permission, beats me hollow!"