[Illustration:  Long Brown moved just in time.]

The poker party went out at the front just as Old Brin came in at the back, and Long Brown thoughtfully took the front pole with him, letting the canvas down over the bear and impeding pursuit.  The lamps were broken in the fall, and the oil blazed up under the canvas.  Col.  Orndorff, Mr. Stewart, Bill Gibson, Doughnut Bill and the cook, Noisy Smith, climbed trees before taking time to see how matters were getting arranged in the tent, and Long Brown stopped at the brink of the pool and turned around to see if the bear was following him.

There was complicated trouble in the tent.  The bear had tangled himself in the canvas and was blindly tossing it about, rolling himself up in the slack, and audibly complaining of the fire and smoke.  The rifles, shot-guns and all but one revolver had been left in the tent, and presently they began to pop.  Doughnut Bill, safe in a sycamore, hitched around to the lee side of the trunk and said:  “Mr. Brown, I seriously advise that you emulate the judicious example of the other gentlemen in this game and avoid exposing yourself unnecessarily to such promiscuous and irresponsible shooting as that bear is doing.”

“That’s dead straight,” added Col.  Orndorff.  “Shin up a tree, Brown, or you’ll get plunked.”

“Think I’ll mix in a little,” replied Brown, drawing his gun and opening fire upon the center of the disturbance.  A bursting shot gun answered his first shot, and the charge plowed a furrow near Long Brown and threw dirt in his face.  Then the cartridge boxes began exploding as the fire reached them, exciting the bear to more tumultuous struggles with the enfolding canvas and louder roars of pain and rage.  The five-gallon oil can, probably punctured by Long Brown’s bullets, furnished the climax to the volcanic display by blowing up and filling the air with burning canvas, blankets and hardware, and out of the fire and smoke rushed the blazing bear straight toward Long Brown and the creek.  Even Long Brown’s nerve was not equal to facing a ton of Grizzly headed toward him in a whirlwind of flame.  He turned and dove into the pool.  That was Old Brin’s destination also, and he followed Long Brown with a great splash and a distinct sizzle.  Brown swam under water down stream, and the bear went straight across, up the opposite bank and into the brush, howling blue murder.

In the morning, when the fire had burned out, the sportsmen raked over the ruins and recovered the larger part of the jackpot, consisting of gold and silver coins partly fused and much blackened.  “Here, gentlemen,” said Doughnut Bill, “we have convincing proof of the wisdom of our Pacific Coast statesmen and financiers in retaining metal as a circulating medium during the late lamentable unpleasantness.  Had we succumbed to the vicious habit of using paper substitutes for money, we should now be weeping over the ashes of a departed jackpot.  Therefore, I suggest that this is an auspicious occasion for passing suitable resolutions reaffirming Nevada’s invincible repugnance to a debased currency, her unalterable fidelity to hard money and her distinguished approval of the resumption of specie payment.”