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Wild Beasts and Their Ways

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on my clothes and ran out. Texas Bill was gone. It appeared that two large bears had been seen as they came along the glen, and turned up the open slope, by which we had descended after shooting the sage-hens. My best horse had not been unsaddled, as the evening was chilly; therefore Texas Bill had immediately jumped into the saddle, and was off in full pursuit. "What rifle did he take?" I inquired of little Henry. "He didn't take any rifle, but he's got his six-shooter, which is much better in his hands, as he knows it," was the reply. There was very little light remaining, and with the long start which the bears obtained, I could not think that Bill would have the slightest chance of overhauling them before they reached the forest; this they would assuredly attempt, the instant they saw themselves pursued. If Bill could only get them upon the open plateau on the summit, he might be able to manage them, but with a gallop up a steep hill to commence with, in the late dusk of evening, the odds were decidedly against him. It became dark, and we expected Bill's return every minute. Jem Bourne, my head man, who was always a grumbler, and exceedingly jealous, began to ventilate his feelings. "A pretty fool he's made of himself to go galloping after bears in a dark night, and nothing but a six-shooter! . . . A nice thing for our best horse to break his legs over those big rocks that nobody can see at night. . . . Well, he'll have to sleep out, and he'll find it pretty cold before the morning, I know. . . . What business he's got to take that horse without permission, beats me hollow!" This sort of muttered growling was disturbed by two shots in quick succession, far up, above the summit of the forest. There could be no doubt that Bill had overhauled the bears. By this time it was quite dark, and we drew our own conclusions from the two pistol shots, the unanimous decision being that Bill had fired in the hope of turning the bears when entering the forest; but what chance had he in the dark, and single-handed? I did not take much interest in such a hopeless chase, but I was anxious about the horse, as the country was so rough that it would be most difficult to pick a way through holes and rocks, to say nothing of fallen trees, which, even during daylight, required consideration. We piled immense pine-logs upon the fire, in addition to bundles of spruce branches; these made a blaze 20 feet high, and would form a beacon as a guide in the dark night. I had taken the time by my watch when we heard the two shots upon the mountain top; twenty minutes had passed, and my lips were almost numbed by whistling with my fingers as a signal that could be heard during a calm night at a great distance. Suddenly this signal appeared to be answered by a shot, from a totally different direction from the first that we had heard; then, quickly, another shot; followed in irregular succession, until we had counted six. "His six-shooter's empty now, but he's got plenty of cartridges in his belt," exclaimed little Henry, the cook. What was the object of these shots? He could not have followed the bears that distance in the dark, as his position was quite a mile from the spot where he had first fired; and he was now, as nearly as we could imagine, above a rocky cliff which bordered a grassy gap that would enable him to descend into our valley; he would then find his way parallel with the stream direct to our camp. My men wished to fire some shots in response, but I declined to permit this disturbance of the neighbourhood, as it would have effectually driven all animals from the locality; we merely piled logs upon the fire, which could be seen from the heights at a great distance, and we waited in anxious expectation. Nearly an hour passed away without any further sign. Bill could not have fired those six shots in succession to attract our attention, as it would have been a needless waste of ammunition: if he had expected a response to a signal, he would have fired a single shot, to be followed by another some minutes later. We now considered that he might have severely wounded the bear by the first two shots that we had heard, and that he had followed the beast up in some extraordinary manner, and at length discovered it. We were about to give up all hope of his return, and knowing that he, as a smoker, was never without a supply of matches, we expected to see the glare of a distant fire, by which he would sit up throughout the night, when presently we heard the sound of whistling, and the clatter of a horse's feet among the stones of the brook, within 150 yards of our position. In a couple of minutes Texas Bill appeared, leading the horse, which was covered with dry foam. In one hand he held a large bloody mass; this was the liver of a bear! "Well done, Bill!" we all exclaimed, except the sulky Jem Bourne, who only muttered, "A pretty state you've brought that horse to; why, I shouldn't have known him." The story was now told by the modest Bill, who did not imagine that he had done anything to excite admiration. This was his account of the hunt in the dark: "Well, you see, when the two bears were going up the open slope, down which you and I came, after shooting the sage-hens, all I could do was to gallop after them, to keep them from getting into the forest; when of course they would have been gone for ever. One of them did make a rush, and passed across me before I could stop him, and I didn't mind this, as I couldn't have managed two. I got in front of the other, and cracked my whip at him, and at last I got him well in the open on the big plateau, where we shot the sage-hens. He got savage now, and was determined to push by me and gain the forest; but I rode right at him, and seeing that I couldn't stop him, I fired my six-shooter to turn him, just as he made a dash at the horse. He made another rush at the horse, and I turned him with another shot, within a couple of paces' distance. This made him take off in a new direction, and he tried to cross the big plateau, intending, no doubt, to get to the forest a couple of miles away on the pointed hill. It was so dark that I could hardly see him, and my only chance was to ride round him, and work him till he should stand quiet enough to let me take a steady shot.

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