a blow from the butt-end of the
fowling-piece. At the first stroke, the stock flew in pieces, and the
next the heavy barrel was hurled a distance of twenty feet among the
underwood by a side blow from the dexterous paw of the bear. Mr. Burke
then retreated a few feet, and placed his back against a large hemlock,
followed the while closely by the bear, but, being acquainted with the
nature of the animal and his mode of attack, he drew a large hunting
knife from his belt, and, placing his arms by his side, coolly awaited
the onset.

"The maddened brute approached, growling and gnashing his teeth, and,
with a savage spring, encircled the body of the hunter and the tree in
his iron gripe. The next moment, the flashing blade of the _couteau
chasse_ tore his abdomen, and his smoking entrails rolled upon the
ground. At this exciting crisis of the struggle, the other man,
accompanied by the dog, came up in time to witness the triumphal close
of the conflict.

"Two old bears and a cub were the fruit of this dangerous adventure--all
extremely fat--the largest of which, it is computed, would weigh upward
of two hundred and fifty pounds. We have seldom heard of a more
dangerous encounter with bears, and we are happy to say that Mr. Burke
received no injury; Mr. Jacob Harrison, although torn severely, and
having three ribs broken, recovered under the care of an Indian doctor
of the Algonquin tribe."

THE MINERS OF BOIS-MONZIL.

On Tuesday, February 22, 1831, a violent detonation was suddenly heard
in the coal mine of Bois-Monzil, belonging to M. Robinot. The waters
from the old works rushed impetuously along the new galleries. "The
waters, the waters!" such was the cry that resounded from the affrighted
workmen throughout the mine. Only ten miners out of twenty-six were able
to reach the entrance. One of them brought off in his arms, a boy eleven
years old, whom he thus saved from sudden death; another impelled by the
air and the water, to a considerable distance, could scarcely credit his
escape from such imminent danger; a third rushed forward with his sack
full of coals on his shoulders, which, in his fright, he had never
thought of throwing down.

The disastrous news, that sixteen workmen had perished in the mine of M.
Robinot, was soon circulated in the town of St. Etienne. It was regarded
as one of those fatal and deplorable events unfortunately, too common in
that neighborhood, and on the ensuing Thursday it was no