“We crept up the little hill, and there over in a draw was the cause of their fear,—­a big old lank Cinnamon.  He was feeding along, heading for a thicket of about ten acres.  The lad who was with me stayed and watched him, while I hurried back, unhobbled the horses, and rushed them into camp.  I hustled out every man, and they cinched their hulls on those horses rapidly.  By the time we had reached the lad who had stayed to watch him, the bear had entered the thicket, but unalarmed.  Some fool suggested the idea that we could drive him out in the open and rope him.  The lay of the land would suggest such an idea, for beyond this motte of cedar lay an impenetrable thicket of over a hundred acres, which we thought he would head for if alarmed.  There was a ridge of a divide between these cedar brakes, and if the bear should attempt to cross over, he would make a fine mark for a rope.

“Well, I always was handy with a rope, and the boys knew it, so I and three others who could twirl a rope were sent around on this divide, to rope him in case he came out.  The others left their horses and made a half-circle drive through the grove, beating the brush and burning powder as though it didn’t cost anything.  We ropers up on the divide scattered out, hiding ourselves as much as we could in the broken places.  We wanted to get him out in the clear in case he played nice.  He must have been a sullen old fellow, for we were beginning to think they had missed him or he had holed, when he suddenly lumbered out directly opposite me and ambled away towards the big thicket.

“I was riding a cream-colored horse, and he was as good a one as ever was built on four pegs, except that he was nervous.  He had never seen a bear, and when I gave him the rowel, he went after that bear like a cat after a mouse.  The first sniff he caught of the bear, he whirled quicker than lightning, but I had made my cast, and the loop settled over Mr. Bear’s shoulders, with one of his fore feet through it.  I had tied the rope in a hard knot to the pommel, and the way my horse checked that bear was a caution.  It must have made bruin mad.  My horse snorted and spun round like a top, and in less time than it takes to tell it, there was a bear, a cream-colored horse, and a man sandwiched into a pile on the ground, and securely tied with a three-eighths-inch rope.  The horse had lashed me into the saddle by winding the rope, and at the same time windlassed the bear in on top of us.  The horse cried with fear as though he was being burnt to death, while the bear grinned and blew his breath in my face.  The running noose in the rope had cut his wind so badly, he could hardly offer much resistance.  It was a good thing he had his wind cut, or he would have made me sorry I enlisted.  I didn’t know it at the time, but my six-shooter had fallen out of the holster, while the horse was lying on my carbine.