g
that was caught, and he would put his hind feet against the jaws of the
trap, and then draw by pressing with his feet, till he would stretch
those tendons to their utmost extent.

"I have known them to work away till they really pulled these tendons
out of the foot, and got off. It was a great event in our neighborhood
when a bear was caught. Whoever caught him blew a horn, and the men and
boys came trooping together to see the sight. I've known them to blow
that horn on a Sunday morning, and I've seen the men turn their backs on
the meeting house to go and see the bear."

"Was there no more merciful way of catching them than by this trap?"
asked Miss Laura.

"Oh, yes, by the deadfall--that is by driving heavy sticks into the
ground, and making a box-like place, open on one side, where two logs
were so arranged with other heavy logs upon them, that when the bear
seized the bait, the upper log fell down and crushed him to death.
Another way was to fix a bait in a certain place, with cords tied to it,
which cords were fastened to triggers of guns placed at a little
distance. When the bear took the bait, the guns went off, and he shot
himself.

"Sometimes it took a good many bullets to kill them. I remember one old
fellow that we put eleven into, before he keeled over. It was one fall,
over on Pike's Hill. The snow had come earlier than usual, and this old
bear hadn't got into his den for his winter's sleep. A lot of us started
out after him. The hill was covered with beech trees, and he'd been
living all the fall on the nuts, till he'd got as fat as butter. We took
dogs and worried him, and ran him from one place to another, and shot at
him, till at last he dropped. We took his meat home, and had his skin
tanned for a sleigh robe.

"One day I was in the woods, and looking through the trees espied a
bear. He was standing up on his hind legs, snuffing in every direction,
and just about the time I espied him, he espied me. I had no dog and no
gun, so I thought I had better be getting home to my dinner. I was a
small boy then, and the bear, probably thinking I'd be a mouthful for
him anyway, began to come after me in a leisurely way. I can see myself
now going through those woods--hat gone, jacket flying, arms out, eyes
rolling over my shoulder every little while to see if the bear was
gaining on me. He was a benevolent-looking old fellow, and his face
seemed to say, 'Don't hurry, little boy.' He wasn't doing his pret