“‘Hark!  What was that?’ said Loomis.  They listened awhile, and agreed it was dogs, sure.

“‘Orr, let’s go back,’ said Butler.

“‘No, it is too late,’ answered Loomis.

“‘But,’ said Butler, ’I’ll warrant the dogs are after a bear; don’t you hear old Beaver?  It sounds to me like the bark of old Beaver when he is after a bear.’

“Butler was bound to go back, and so they started.  The scene of the disturbance was finally reached, after traveling two or three miles.  The dogs had found a bear; but it was in the middle of Long Swamp, and the alders were so thick that there was scarcely room for man, dog or bear to get through.  This did not deter Phin.  Butler, however.  They got near enough to find that the bear was stationed on a spot a little drier than the main swamp, surrounded by alder bushes, and that she was determined not to leave it.  The dogs would bay up close, when the old bear would run out after them.  They would retreat, and then she would run back to her nest again.

“‘We can’t kill her to-night,’ said Loomis, ’we will have to go home and come down again in the morning.’

“‘No,’ replied Butler, ’I am afraid she will get away.  We can kill her to-night, I guess.  You can go and hiss on the dogs on one side, and I will come up on the other; and when she runs out after them, I’ll cut her back-bone off with the ax.’

“They concluded to try this plan, and came very near succeeding.  As the old bear rushed past, Butler put the whole bit of the ax into her back, but failed to cut the back-bone by an inch or two.  Enraged and desperate, she sprang upon the dogs, who, emboldened by the presence of their masters, came too close.  With one of her enormous paws she came down on old Beaver, making a large wound in his side, which nearly killed him.  He was hardly able to crawl out of the swamp.

“The fight was then abandoned until morning, as without Beaver to lead the dogs it was useless to proceed.  It was difficult to get the old dog home, but he finally got well.  Early in the morning the hunters were on the ground.  This time they had their guns with them, but found the old bear was gone.  On examining her nest of the night before, her unusual ferocity was explained.  She had a litter of cubs, which, however, she had succeeded in removing, and must have carried them off in her mouth.  In a short time the dogs had tracked her out.  She was found a half mile lower down the swamp, where she had a new nest.  Butler’s rifle soon dispatched her; but her cubs, four in number, and not more than three or four weeks old, were taken alive, and kept for pets.”

Father said that he could remember when they brought the bears home, growling, snarling—­the crossest little things he ever saw.

Strange as it may seem, my father did not inherit grandfather’s love for hunting.  I never saw him shoot a gun, and he has never owned one within my recollection.