ions, for example, were safely kept in cages which they could have
broken with a blow rightly placed. Monarch discovered the weak places
of such a cage within a few hours and wrecked it with swift skill.
When inveigled into a movable cage with a falling door, he turned the
instant the door fell, seized the lower edge and tried to raise it.
When placed in a barred enclosure in the park, he began digging under
the stone foundation of the fence, necessitating the excavation of a
deep trench and the emplacement therein of large boulders to prevent
his escape. Then he tried the aerial route, climbed the twelve foot
iron palings, bent the tops of inch and a half bars and was nearly over
when detected and pushed back.

He remains captive only because it is physically impossible for him to
escape, not because he is in the least unaware of his power or inept in
using it. Apparently he has no illusions concerning man and no respect
for him as a superior being. He has been beaten by superior cunning,
but never conquered, and he gives no parole to refrain from renewing
the contest when opportunity offers.

Mr. Ernest Thompson Seton saw Monarch and sketched him in 1901, and he
said: "I consider him the finest Grizzly I have seen in captivity."

[Illustration: Monarch, The Biggest Bear in Captivity.]

NOTE.--Without doubt the largest captive grizzly bear in the world, may
be seen in the Golden Gate Park, San Francisco. As to his exact
weight, there is much conjecture. That has not been determined, as the
bear has never been placed on a scale. Good judges estimate it at not
far from twelve hundred pounds. The bear's appearance justifies that
conclusion. Monarch enjoys the enviable distinction of being the
largest captive bear in the world.--N. Y. Tribune, March 8, 1903.

CHAPTER III.

CHRONICLES OF CLUBFOOT.

The most famous bear in the world was, is and will continue to be the
gigantic Grizzly known variously on the Pacific Slope as "Old Brin,"
"Clubfoot," and "Reelfoot." He was first introduced to the public by a
mining-camp editor named Townsend, who was nicknamed "Truthful James"
in a spirit of playful irony. That was in the seventies. Old Erin was
described as a bear of monstrous size, brindled coat, ferocious
disposition and evil fame among the hunters of the Sierra. He had been
caught in a steel trap and partly crippled by the loss of a toe and
other mutilation of a front paw, and his clubfooted trac