and, though unable, of course, to kill him, would worry him breathless and hold him down so that he could be slain with ease.  There have been instances in which five or six of the big so-called blood-hounds of the southern States—­not pure blood-hounds at all, but huge, fierce, ban-dogs, with a cross of the ferocious Cuban blood-hound, to give them good scenting powers—­have by themselves mastered the cougar and the black bear.  Such instances occurred in the hunting history of my own forefathers on my mother’s side, who during the last half of the eighteenth, and the first half of the present, century lived in Georgia and over the border in what are now Alabama and Florida.  These big dogs can only overcome such foes by rushing in in a body and grappling all together; if they hang back, lunging and snapping, a cougar or bear will destroy them one by one.  With a quarry so huge and redoubtable as the grisly, no number of dogs, however large and fierce, could overcome him unless they all rushed on him in a mass, the first in the charge seizing by the head or throat.  If the dogs hung back, or if there were only a few of them, or if they did not seize around the head, they would be destroyed without an effort.  It is murder to slip merely one or two close-quarter dogs at a grisly.  Twice I have known a man take a large bulldog with his pack when after one of these big bears, and in each case the result was the same.  In one instance the bear was trotting when the bulldog seized it by the cheek, and without so much as altering its gait, it brushed off the hanging dog with a blow from the fore-paw that broke the latter’s back.  In the other instance the bear had come to bay, and when seized by the ear it got the dog’s body up to its jaws, and tore out the life with one crunch.

A small number of dogs must rely on their activity, and must hamper the bear’s escape by inflicting a severe bite and avoiding the counter-stroke.  The only dog I ever heard of which, single-handed, was really of service in stopping a grisly, was a big Mexican sheep-dog, once owned by the hunter Tazewell Woody.  It was an agile beast with powerful jaws, and possessed both intelligence and a fierce, resolute temper.  Woody killed three grislies with its aid.  It attacked with equal caution and ferocity, rushing at the bear as the latter ran, and seizing the outstretched hock with a grip of iron, stopping the bear short, but letting go before the angry beast could whirl round and seize it.  It was so active and wary that it always escaped damage; and it was so strong and bit so severely that the bear could not possibly run from it at any speed.  In consequence, if it once came to close quarters with its quarry, Woody could always get near enough for a shot.