an'
isn't there a spree jist!"

We need scarcely remark, that the latter part of this speech was made to
Sinton and his comrade, who were drawing the charges of their revolvers
and reloading.

"Is the trap far off?" inquired Ned.

"Quarter of an hour, or so. Look sharp, lads."

This exhortation was unnecessary, for the men had already caught three
stout horses, all of which were attached to an enormous waggon or van,
whose broad wheels accounted for the tracks discovered in the valley on
the previous evening.

"That's his cage," said the bear-catcher, replying to Ned's look of
inquiry. "It's all lined with sheet-iron, and would hold an ontamed
streak o' lightnin', it would. Now, then, drive ahead."

The lumbering machine jolted slowly down the hill as he spoke, and while
several of the party remained with the horses, Croft and our travellers,
with the remainder, pushed on ahead. In less than twenty minutes, they
came to a ravine filled with thick underwood, from the recesses of which
came forth sounds of fierce ursine wrath that would have deterred most
men from entering; but Croft knew his game was secure, and led the way
confidently through the bushes, until he reached a spot on which stood
what appeared to be a small log-cabin without door or window. Inside of
this cabin an enormous grizzly-bear raged about furiously, thrusting his
snout and claws through the interstices of the logs, and causing
splinters to fly all round him, while he growled in tones of the deepest
indignation.

"Oh! ain't he a bit o' thunder?" cried Croft, as he walked round the
trap, gazing in with glittering eyes at every opening between the logs.

"How in the world did you get him in there?" asked Ned Sinton, as soon
as his astonishment had abated sufficiently to loosen his tongue.

"Easy enough," replied Croft. "If ye obsarve the top o' the trap, ye'll
see the rope that suspended it from the limb o' that oak. Inside there
was a bit o' beef, so fixed up, that when Mister Caleb laid hold of it,
he pulled a sort o' trigger, an' down came the trap, shuttin' him in
slick, as ye see."

At this moment the powerful animal struggled so violently that he tilted
his prison on one side, and well-nigh overturned it.

"Look out, lads," shouted Croft, darting towards a tree, and cocking his
rifle,--actions in which he was imitated by all the rest of the party,
with surprising agility.

"Don't fire till it turns over," he cried, sternly,