that with this day's miss ended some of the most
careless shooting I have ever done.

This evening we made our camp on the beach on the other side of the
bay. I was up frequently during the night, for bears were constantly
moving about on the mountain side just behind our sleeping place, but
although I could distinctly hear them, the thick brush prevented my
getting a shot.

In this latitude there is practically no night during the month of June,
and I can recall no more enchanting spot than where we were now camped.
Even my hard day's work would not bring sleep, and I lay with my
faithful dog at my feet and gazed on the vast mountains about us, their
summits capped with snow, while their sides were clothed in the dull
velvet browns of last year's herbage, through which the vivid greens of
a northern summer were rapidly forcing themselves.

It was after five next morning when we left in our two baidarkas for the
extreme head of the bay, where there was another vast meadow. My friend
chose to hunt the right side of this marsh, while I took the left.

On reaching our watching place I settled myself for the day in my fur
rug, and soon dozed off to finish my night's rest, while my men took
turns with the glasses. About ten o'clock a black bear was sighted a
long way off, but he soon wandered into the thicket which surrounded the
marsh on three sides. At twelve o'clock he appeared again, and we now
circled well to leeward and waited where two trails met at the edge of
the meadow, expecting the bear would work down one of them to us. It was
a long tiresome wait, for we were perched upon some tussocks through
which the water soon found its way. About five o'clock we returned to
our original watching place, where my friend joined me.

The wind had been at a slant, and although we had worked safely around
the bear, he must have got the scent of Blake's party, although a long
way off, for my friend reported that the bear was coming in our
direction, as we had counted upon, when he suddenly threw up his head,
gave one whiff, and started for the woods.

On Friday morning, June 7, we made a three o'clock start from where we
had passed the night on the beach. The sun was not over the mountains
for another hour, and there was that great charm which comes in the
early dawn of a summer's day. Blake in his baidarka, and I in mine,
paddled along, side by side, and pushed up to the extreme head of the
bay, where we came upon an old