ge on
trying occasions of this sort. What a blessing it is to possess such
steadiness of nerve! I would not hesitate one moment to attack the
most ferocious grizzly in existence if I felt half as much confidence
in my ability to kill it. But the carriages are waiting; the horses
are prancing; the hunters are blowing their bugles; the royal party
are mounting on horseback or in their carriages, as best may suit
their taste, and the signal is given! A salute is fired by the Guard,
huzzas ring through the air, and the Czar of all the Russias is fairly
off on his hunt. Trees fly by; desert patches of ground whirl from
under; versts are as nothing to these spirited steeds and their
spirited masters, and in an hour or so the grand scene of action is
reached. Here couriers stand ready to conduct the imperial hunters
into the very jaws of death. The noble proprietor himself, bareheaded,
greets the royal pageant; the serfs bow down in Oriental fashion; the
dashing young Czar touches his hunting-cap in military style and waves
his hand gallantly to the ladies of the household, who are peeping at
him from their carriages in the distance. Once more the bugle is
sounded, and away they dash--knights, nobles, and all--the handsome
and gallant Czar leading the way by several lengths. Soon the terrific
cry is heard--"Halt! the bear! the bear! Halt!" Shut your eyes,
reader, for you never can stand such a sight as that--a full-grown
black bear, not two hundred yards off, in the middle of an open space,
surrounded by five hundred men hidden behind trees and driving him
back from every point where he attempts to escape. You don't see the
men, but you hear them shouting and banging upon their pots, pans, and
kettles. Now just open one eye and see the emperor dismount from his
famous charger, and deliver the rein to a dozen domestics,
deliberately cock his rifle, and fearlessly get behind the nearest
tree within the range of the bear. By this time you perceive that
Bruin is dancing a _pas seul_ on his hind legs, utterly confounded
with the noises around him. Shut your eyes again, for the emperor is
taking his royal aim, and will presently crack away with his royal
rifle. Hist! triggers are clicking around you in every direction, but
you needn't be the least afraid, for, although the bear is covered by
a reserve of forty rifles, not one of the hunters has nerve enough to
shoot unless officially authorized or personally desirous of visiting
the