After a bite, at 3 P.M. we were off again, and had gone only a little way when George exclaimed, “Who’s that?  Why, it’s a bear.”

On the farther side of the river walking along the hill was a huge black bear.  I had never before seen one anywhere but in the Zoo, and the sight of this big fellow enjoying the freedom of his native country gave me quite a new sensation.  At first we decided not to molest him.  A full supply of provisions made it unnecessary to secure game now, and at this time of the year the skin would be of no value.  The men sent a few rifle shots in his direction, though not with any thought of their hitting him.  They had the effect of making him quicken his pace, however, and the trail took him up to the top of the hill where, as he went leisurely along, his big form clearly outlined against the sky, he proved too great a temptation.  Suddenly the canoe shot out across the river, and on the other shore ran into the mouth of a little stream at the foot of a big sand-hill.

Job hurried off with the rifle, and George and I followed as I was able.  We had to cross a broad belt of tangled willows, and to know what that means, one must do it; but the prospect of at least getting on the edge of a bear chase is great inducement when once you become a little excited, and I scrambled through.  The hill was steep and thickly strewn with windfalls about which the new growth had sprung up.  Its top was like the thin edge of a wedge, and the farther side dropped, a steep sand-bank, to the stream which flowed at its foot.  When we were hardly more than half-way up, there was the sound of a shot and a funny, little shrill cry from Job.  Bruin had been climbing the sand-bank, and was nearly at the top when Job fired.  The bullet evidently struck him for, doubling up, his head between his legs, he rolled over and over to the foot of the bank.  When I reached the top of the hill he was on his legs again and running down along the edge of the stream.  There had been only one cartridge in the rifle, and Job rushed down the hill to the canoe for more.

Joe and Gilbert had crossed the river meantime and were landing near our canoe.  The stream turned abruptly round the foot of the hill close to them, and I wondered what would happen when Bruin appeared suddenly round the bend.  Evidently Bruin had the best eyes—­or nose—­for, on coming to the bend, he turned suddenly and started back up-stream; but again changing his mind he made up over the hill where we had first seen him.  I was still panting and trembling with the exertion of my climb, but I took out my revolver and sent a few shots after him.  It is hardly needful to say they did not hurt the bear.  When Job and Gilbert came up with the rifles to where we were standing he was just disappearing over the top of the hill, having apparently been little injured, and so the chase was not followed up.