abandoned the attempt, kept perfectly still
and watched the bear with half-closed eyes. The Grizzly realized that
the meat was beyond his reach, and with a sighing grunt came down to
all fours, stepping upon and crushing flat a tin cup filled with water
within a foot of the man's head. The bear inquisitively turned the
crushed cup over, smelt of it, sniffed at Snedden's ear and slouched
slowly away into the darkness as noiselessly as a phantom, and only one
man in the camp knew he had been there except by the sign of his
footprints and the flattened cup.

Many hunters have told me of similar experiences, and never have I
heard of one instance of unprovoked attack upon a sleeping person by a
bear, or for that matter by any other of the large carnivorae of this
country. Only one authentic instance of a bear feeding on human flesh
have I known, and that was under unusual circumstances.

Two things will be noted by the reader of these accounts of California
bear fights: First, that the Grizzly's point of attack is usually the
face or head, and second, that, except in the case of she-bears
protecting or avenging their cubs, the Grizzly ceased his attack when
satisfied that his enemy was no longer capable of continuing the fight,
and showed no disposition to wantonly mangle an apparently dead man.
Since the forty she-bears came out of the wilderness and ate up a drove
of small boys for guying a holy man, who was unduly sensitive about his
personal dignity, the female of the ursine species, however, has been
notorious for ill-temper and vindictive pertinacity, and she maintains
that reputation to this day.

In the summer of 1850, G. W. Applegate and his brother John were mining
at Horse Shoe Bar on the American River. The nearest base of supplies
at that time was Georgetown, eighteen miles distant by trail. One
evening in early summer, having run short of provisions, George and his
brother started to walk to that camp to make purchases. Darkness soon
overtook them and while descending into Canyon Creek they heard a bear
snort at some distance behind. In a few moments they heard it again,
louder than before, and John rather anxiously remarked that he thought
the bear was following them. George thought not, but in a few seconds
after crossing the stream and beginning the ascent upon the other side,
both distinctly heard him come--splash, splash, splash--through the
water directly upon their trail.

It was as dark as