tied to his sled. He became very expert in
dodging ropes and seizing them when the loops fell over his legs, and
considerable strategic skill was required to lasso his paws and stretch
him out. In the beginning of these contests the Grizzly uttered angry
growls, but soon became silent and fought with dogged persistency,
watching every movement of his foes with alert attention and wasting no
energy in aimless struggles. He soon learned to keep his hind feet
well under him and his body close to the ground, which left only his
head and fore-legs to be defended from the ropes. So adroit and quick
was the bear in the use of his paws that a dozen men could not get a
rope on him while he remained in that posture of defence. But when two
or three men grasped the chain that was around his body and suddenly
threw him on his back, all four of his legs were in the air at once,
the riatas flew from all directions and he was vanquished.

[Illustration: Chained to trees every night.]

Monarch was pretty well worn out when the wagon road was reached, and
doubtless enjoyed the few days of rest and quiet that were allowed him
while a cage was being built for his further transportation. He made
the remainder of the journey to San Francisco by wagon and railroad,
confined in a box constructed of inch-and-a-half Oregon pine that had
an iron grating at one end. The box was not strong enough to have held
him for five minutes had he attacked it as he attacked the trap and as
he subsequently demolished an iron-lined den, but I put my trust in the
moral influence of the chain around his neck. The Grizzly accepted the
situation resignedly and behaved admirably during the whole trip.

Monarch is the largest bear in captivity and a thoroughbred Californian
Grizzly. No naturalist needs a second glance at him to classify him as
Ursus Horribilis. He stands four feet high at the shoulder, measures
three feet across the chest, 12 inches between the ears and 18 inches
from ear to nose, and his weight is estimated by the best judges at
from 1200 to 1600 pounds. He never has been weighed. In disposition
he is independent and militant. He will fight anything from a crowbar
to a powder magazine, and permit no man to handle him while he can move
a muscle. And yet when he and I were acquainted--I have not seen him
since he was taken to Golden Gate Park--he was not unreasonably
quarrelsome, but preserved an attitude of armed neutrality. He woul