to get off his direct line, with the view of getting a side shot, but just as I did so he accidentally altered his route, thus bringing himself again head on to me.  Then I manoeuvred again to get out of his line, but the bear also altered his line, and as by this time he was getting rather too close—­i.e., about ten yards off—­I stood up and took a steady shot at his head and dropped him dead.  Now, strange to say, I do not believe that the bear ever saw me at all, and he could not wind me, as the south-westerly wind was blowing strongly from him to me, and yet, as the grass at that season was by no means long, he had no more difficulty in seeing me than I had in seeing him, and he probably would have walked right up to me.  This instance is, I think, interesting, and goes far to explain the numerous accidents in connection with bears.  Still there can be no doubt that, as Colonel Peyton says, an unwounded and untouched bear will deliberately attack people when there is no occasion for his doing so, and that too, under circumstances where no other animal would make an attack, and of this the following little incident will serve as an illustration.

On one occasion a bear was reported on a jungly hill about a mile from my bungalow, and as I was young and inexperienced then, I said that I would lie on the ground till I heard the beaters, and then stand behind a tree.  I was alone, and had only a single barrelled rifle, which I laid on the ground beside me.  As the cover was rather a large one, I had no reason to expect anything till I could at least hear the beaters in the distance, and I lay leaning on my elbow and thinking of I cannot now remember what, when on chancing to look up I saw a large bear standing at the edge of the jungle about twenty yards away.  The moment I moved he charged, and I at once seized my rifle, sprang up and charged the bear at an angle (there was no time to fire), and made for the jungle from which he had emerged.  I just missed his nose, and he followed me for a few paces as I ran towards the jungle from which he had come, which I did knowing that he would not be inclined to go in that direction.  Then, having thus cleared me out of the way, he turned, and resumed his original route, and as he was disappearing into the next jungle I fired at him, but the charge must have had a discomposing effect on my shooting, for I missed the bear altogether.  Now, as the beaters were far away and not within hearing, there was no occasion for the bear to have attacked me, and there was ample room for him to have altered his line.  In fact, unless closely pressed by beaters, no other unwounded animal would have so acted.  It will be observed that the bear, after having pursued me for a few yards, turned and went on his way, but had I not been nimble—­in other words, had I been completely invested by the bear and thrown down—­he might, as the natives would phrase it, have made my wife a widow.  It is commonly supposed that, when making an attack, the bear stands on its hind legs, and thus gives the sportsman a good chance of killing him with a shot in the chest, but this is not my experience, and, though instances of the kind may have occurred, I should not advise the sportsman to count on any such delay in the proceedings of an attacking bear.