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on foot; in which case, the bridle is simply arranged by drawing the reins over the head, and throwing them in his front, to fall upon the ground before his fore-feet. When thus managed, the horse will feed, but he will never move away from his position, and he will wait for hours for the return of his master.

We rode about four miles without seeing a living creature, except a badger. This animal squatted upon seeing the horses, and lay close to the ground like a hare in form, until we actually halted within 10 feet of its position. Bob immediately suggested that we should kill it, and secure its skin (his one idea appeared to be a longing to divest everything of its hide); but I would not halt, as the day was to be devoted to bears. We at length arrived at a portion of the forest where the young spruce had grown up from a space that had formerly been burnt; about 50 acres were densely covered with bright green foliage, forming a pleasing contrast to the sombre hue of the older forest. This was considered by my guide to be a likely retreat for bears; it was as thick as possible for trees to grow.

We accordingly dismounted, threw the reins over our horses' heads, and, taking the right direction of the wind, we entered the main forest, which was connected with the younger growth. It was easy to distinguish tracks, as the earth was covered with old half-rotten pine needles, which formed a soft surface, that would receive a deep impression. Nearly all the old trees were more or less barked by the horns of wapiti, showing that immense numbers must visit these woods at the season when the horns are nearly hard, and require rubbing, to clean them from the velvet. We had not strolled more than half a mile through the dark wood when Bob suddenly halted, and, like Robinson Crusoe, he appeared startled by the signs of a footstep deeply imprinted in the soil. It was uncommonly like a large and peculiarly broad human foot, but there was no doubt it was a most recent track of a bear, and the direction taken would lead towards the dense young spruce that we had already seen. We followed the track, until we at length arrived at the bright green thicket, in which we felt sure the bear must be lying down.

This was an exceedingly awkward place, and Bob assured me that if he were alone, he should decline to enter such a forest, as it was impossible to see a yard ahead, and a bear might spring upon you before you knew that it was near. As I had a double-barrelled powerful rifle, I of course went first, followed by Bob close behind. As noiselessly as possible, we pushed through the elastic branches, and very slowly followed the track, which was now more difficult to distinguish, owing to the close proximity of the young trees that overshadowed the surface of the ground.

In this manner we had advanced about a quarter of a mile, when a sudden rush was made exactly in my front, the young trees were roughly shaken, and I jumped forward immediately, to meet or to follow the animal, before I could determine what it really was. Something between a short roar and a grunt proclaimed it to be a bear, and I pushed on as fast as I could through the opposing branches; I could neither see nor hear anything.

Bob Stewart now joined me. "That's no good," he exclaimed, "you shouldn't run forward when you hear the rush of a bear, but jump on one side, as I did. Supposing that bear had come straight at you; why, he'd a been on the top of you before you could have got your rifle up. True, you've got a double-barrel, but that's not my way of shooting bears, although that's the way to JUMP A BEAR, which you've seen now, and you may jump a good many before you get a shot in this kind of stuff."

I could not induce Bob to take any further trouble in pursuit, as he assured me that it would be to no purpose: the bear when thus disturbed would go straight away, and might not halt for several miles.

This was a disappointment; we therefore sought our horses, which we found quietly grazing in the place that we expected. Remounting, we rode slowly through the great mass of spruce firs, which I had named the "10 mile forest."

There was very little underwood beyond a few young spruce here and there, and we could see from 80 to 100 yards in every direction. Presently we came across an enormous skull, which Bob immediately examined, and handed it to me, suggesting that I should preserve it as a specimen. He declared this to be the skull of a true grizzly; but some of the teeth were missing, and as I seldom collect anything that I have not myself shot or taken a part in shooting, I declined the head, although it was double the size of anything I had experienced.

The forest was peculiarly dark, and the earth was so soft from the decaying pine needles, that our horses made no noise, unless when occasionally their hoofs struck against the brittle branches of a fallen tree. We were thus riding, always keeping a bright look-out, when Bob (who was leading) suddenly sprang from his mare, and as quick as lightning fired at a black-tail buck, that was standing about 80 yards upon our right. His shot had no effect; the deer, which had not before observed us, started at the shot, and stood again, without moving more than three or four yards. Bob had reloaded his Sharp like magic, and he fired another shot, hitting it through the neck, as it was gazing directly towards us; it fell dead, without moving a foot.

We rode up to the buck; it was in beautiful condition, but the horns were in velvet, and were useless. I now watched with admiration the wonderful dexterity with which Bob, as a professional skin-hunter, divested this buck of its hide. It appeared to me that I could hardly take off my own clothes (if I were to commence with my greatcoat) quicker than he ripped off the skin from this beautiful beast. With very little delay, the hide was neatly folded up, and secured to the Mexican saddle by the long leathern thongs, which form portions of that excellent invention.

Bob remounted his mare, with the skin strapped behind the cantle, like a military valise; and we continued on our way. "That was a quick shot, Bob."--"Yes, 2 1/2 dollars, or 2 dollars at least I'll get for that skin; you see there's no game that pays us like the black-tail, and I never let one go if I can help it; they're easy to shoot, easy to skin, easy to dry, and easy to sell at a good price, and more than that, they're handy to pack upon a mule."

That little incident having passed, we again relapsed into silence, and rode slowly forward, with a wide-awake look-out on every side.

We had ridden about a mile, when the fresh tracks of bears that had crossed our route caused a sudden halt, and we immediately dismounted to examine them. They were of average size, and there could be no doubt, from the short stride of each pace, that they were retiring leisurely, after a night's ramble, to the beds in which they usually laid up. We led our horses to a small glade of good grass that was not far distant, and left them in the usual manner.

We now commenced tracking, which was simple enough, as the heavy footprints were distinct, and the bears had been travelling tolerably straight towards home. At length, after nearly a mile of this easy work, we arrived at a portion of the forest where some hurricane must in former years have levelled several hundred acres. The trees were lying about in confused heaps, piled in many places one upon the other, in the greatest confusion. None of them were absolutely rotten, but the branches were exceedingly brittle, and, if broken, they snapped like a pistol shot, making a noiseless advance most difficult. Through this chaos of fallen timber the young spruce had grown with extreme vigour, and I never experienced greater difficulty in making my way than in this tangled and obdurate mass of long trunks of gnarled trees, and branches lying at every angle, intergrown with the green boughs of younger spruce.

Bob Stewart wore moccasins, and being exceedingly light and active, he ran up each sloping treestem for 40 or 50 feet, then dropped nimbly to another fallen trunk below, bobbed under a mass of heavy timber, like masts in a shipbuilder's yard, supported as they had chanced to fall, and then dived underneath all sorts of obstructions. He was followed admiringly, but slowly, by myself, not provided with moccasins, but in high riding boots. If I had been a squirrel, I might perhaps have beaten Bob, but after several hundred yards of this horrible entanglement, which might have been peopled by all the bears in Wyoming, we arrived at a small grassy swamp in the bottom of a hollow, just beneath a great mass of perpendicular rock, about 70 or 80 feet in height. In the centre of this hollow was a pool of water, about 8 feet by 6. This had been disturbed so recently by some large animal, that the mud was still curling in dusky rings, showing that the bath had only just been vacated. We halted, and examined this attentively. The edges of the little pool were wet with the drip from the bear's shaggy coat, as it had left the water.

Bob whispered to me, "Look sharp, there are bears here, more than one I think, and if they've heard us, they'll be somewhere alongside this rock I reckon, or maybe up above." We crept along, and beneath the fallen timber; but it was so dark, owing to the great number of young spruce which had pushed their way upwards, that a dozen bear might have moved without our seeing one.

We now arrived at a small open space, about 20 feet square; this was a delightful change from the darkness and obstructions: The ground in this spot was a deep mass of pine needles, and in this soft material there were three or four round depressions, quite smooth, and about 18 inches deep; these were the beds of bears, where in undisturbed solitude they were in the habit of sleeping after their nocturnal rambles.

I was of opinion that we had disturbed our game, as several times we had accidentally broken a dead branch, with a loud report, when clambering through the abominable route. However, we crept forward round the base of the rock, and arrived in the darkest and thickest place that we had hitherto experienced.

At this moment we heard a sharp report, as a dead branch snapped immediately in our front. For an instant I saw a large black shadow apparently walking along the trunk of a fallen pine. I could not see the sight of my rifle in the deep gloom, but I fired, and was answered by a short growl and a momentary crash among the branches.

We ran forward with difficulty, but no bear was to be seen. We searched everywhere, but in vain. I came to the conclusion that the game was hardly worth the candle.

Through several hours we worked hard, but did not find another bear; and it was past five o'clock when we arrived at our camp, after a
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