he old days, however, it may almost be said that a grisly
was more apt to attack than to flee. Lewis and Clarke and the early
explorers who immediately succeeded them, as well as the first hunters
and trappers, the "Rocky Mountain men" of the early decades of the
present century, were repeatedly assailed in this manner; and not a few
of the bear hunters of that period found that it was unnecessary to take
much trouble about approaching their quarry, as the grisly was usually
prompt to accept the challenge and to advance of its own accord, as
soon as it discovered the foe. All this is changed now. Yet even at the
present day an occasional vicious old bear may be found, in some far-off
and little-trod fastness, which still keeps up the former habit of its
kind. All old hunters have tales of this sort to relate, the prowess,
cunning, strength, and ferocity of the grisly being favorite topics for
camp-fire talk throughout the Rockies; but in most cases it is not safe
to accept these stories without careful sifting.

Still it is just as unsafe to reject them all. One of my own cowboys was
once attacked by a grisly, seemingly in pure wantonness. He was riding
up a creek bottom and had just passed a clump of rose and bull-berry
bushes when his horse gave such a leap as almost to unseat him, and
then darted madly forward. Turning round in the saddle to his utter
astonishment he saw a large bear galloping after him, at the horse's
heels. For a few jumps the race was close, then the horse drew away and
the bear wheeled and went into a thicket of wild plums. The amazed
and indignant cowboy, as soon as he could rein in his steed, drew his
revolver and rode back to and around the thicket, endeavoring to provoke
his late pursuer to come out and try conclusions on more equal terms;
but prudent Ephraim had apparently repented of his freak of ferocious
bravado, and declined to leave the secure shelter of the jungle.

Other attacks are of a much more explicable nature. Mr. Huffman, the
photographer of Miles City, informed me once when butchering some
slaughtered elk he was charged twice by a she-bear and two well-grown
cubs. This was a piece of sheer bullying, undertaken solely with the
purpose of driving away the man and feasting on the carcasses; for
in each charge the three bears, after advancing with much blustering,
roaring, and growling, halted just before coming to close quarters. In
another instance a gentleman I once knew, a Mr.