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moments of an American hunter's life are those in which, with every sense
on the alert, and with nerves strung to the highest point, he is following
alone into the heart of its forest fastness the fresh and bloody
footprints of an angered grizzly; and no other triumph of American hunting
can compare with the victory to be thus gained.

These big bears will not ordinarily charge from a distance of over a
hundred yards; but there are exceptions to this rule. In the fall of 1890
my friend Archibald Rogers was hunting in Wyoming, south of the
Yellowstone Park, and killed seven bears. One, an old he, was out on a
bare table-land, grubbing for roots, when he was spied. It was early in
the afternoon, and the hunters, who were on a high mountain slope,
examined him for some time through their powerful glasses before making
him out to be a bear. They then stalked up to the edge of the wood which
fringed the table-land on one side, but could get no nearer than about
three hundred yards, the plains being barren of all cover. After waiting
for a couple of hours Rogers risked the shot, in despair of getting
nearer, and wounded the bear, though not very seriously. The animal made
off, almost broadside to, and Rogers ran forward to intercept it. As soon
as it saw him it turned and rushed straight for him, not heeding his
second shot, and evidently bent on charging home. Rogers then waited until
it was within twenty yards, and brained it with his third bullet.

In fact bears differ individually in courage and ferocity precisely as men
do, or as the Spanish bulls, of which it is said that not more than one in
twenty is fit to stand the combat of the arena. One grizzly can scarcely
be bullied into resistance; the next may fight to the end, against any
odds, without flinching, or even attack unprovoked. Hence men of limited
experience in this sport, generalizing from the actions of the two or
three bears each has happened to see or kill, often reach diametrically
opposite conclusions as to the fighting temper and capacity of the quarry.
Even old hunters--who indeed, as a class, are very narrow-minded and
opinionated--often generalize just as rashly as beginners. One will
portray all bears as very dangerous; another will speak and act as if he
deemed them of no more consequence than so many rabbits.

I knew one old hunter who had killed a score without ever seeing one show
fight. On the other hand, Dr. James C. Merrill, U.S.A., who has