It was now evening, and getting very dark, so I lit a bunch of grass, and, on throwing it down the crevice, could see a bear lying at the bottom. I threw a stone down, at which he did not growl, but, probably owing to the flickering light of the burning grass, he seemed to move, so we agreed to leave him till next morning. As we were starting home, my shikari noticed that the dry leaves at the bottom of the crevice were burning, which meant that by the morning the bear would have his coat singed off, so I hardened my heart, and, taking the rope, climbed down again, gave the bear a kick when I got just above him, and as he did not move, went up to him, felt for his head, slipped a noose over it, and the men above hauled him out. We started early next day, taking L.’s lantern, as mine was in the cave, and, on arrival at the place, to my infinite disgust, found fresh droppings at the entrance. They were probably only those of cubs, but one could not tell their size, and it made the idea of going down in cold blood much less pleasant.
I fired a shot down the cave, listened, but could hear no sound, so went to my old entrance and tried to lower L.’s lantern by a string, which was cut against the rocks, so that the lantern fell to the bottom.
We were now in a fix, for both our lanterns were down below, and if we left them there we should have to spend our evenings in darkness.
L., whose figure was not suited to climbing about in narrow caves, did not like the idea of my going down again—no more did I—but I could not well leave the lanterns there simply because I was afraid of fetching them; so taking my double-barrelled rifle with me, I started on my fifth journey. The length of the rifle made the climbing very awkward; however, I reached the bottom without damaging it, found my own lantern none the worse except for a few dents and scratches, followed the bottom of the cave until I reached the crevice, above which the others were standing anxiously awaiting my reappearance. They lowered a rope and hauled up the lantern, while I went back, found L.’s lantern in two pieces, handed it up, and then proceeded in my search for the bear.
I found him stone-dead under the overhanging ledge, but I could hear something moving ahead of me the whole time; the cave was pitch dark, was getting much lower and narrower, and turned two sharp corners.
To get at the bear’s head I should have to crawl over him, and we had no rope long enough to reach to where I was, besides which the cave made so many zig-zags that it would in any case have been impossible to haul the bear out without several of the party coming down to assist; so pulling out some hair to show that I had handled him, I returned, and offered to go on ahead of the bear as a guard, with rifle and lantern, if some of the others would bring the rope and do the hauling.
The noise ahead was probably made by cubs, but as I did not know their size, and as it might have been a fourth bear, I did not care to risk being attacked while I was tying up the quarry in a place where I had no elbow-room.
L., I think wisely, decided that we had been very lucky in recovering two bears and our lanterns without accident, and that it would be folly to risk an almost certain mauling for the sake of a third; so I came out, by no means unwillingly. I never fancied the last part of the job—I could not have got the bear out alone, and as two or three men on hands and knees in a narrow cave must get in each other’s way in a scrimmage, a charge would probably have ended badly.
I only escaped the first time through putting the lantern on one side of me instead of at my feet, and through the cave at that place being wide enough for the bear to pass by my side; very likely also the fact of my standing on the stone, though it was at the most two feet high, brought me a little above the level of the bear’s eyes, and seeing the lantern he charged it.