Bob Hunt in Canada

by George W. Orton

"Don't worry about me," said Bob. "You haven't heard me kicking, have you?"

They stopped for lunch at the base of a forty-foot fall.

There was a deep pool, flecked with foam, as was to be expected. Mr. Waterman got out his line and in fifteen minutes he had six fine trout out of the water. Pierre soon had them cleaned and they had them for lunch. On they went again, but they traveled more than another five miles before they came to a small lake. Mr. Waterman looked at his compass and decided that the lake must flow into the Portneuf River. They went to the far end of the lake, where a little stream flowed out.

"I'll wager that we'll hit the Portneuf River in less than an hour to-morrow," said Mr. Waterman.

"To-morrow?" queried Pud.

"Yes, I think that we have done enough for to-day. Here is a fine place to camp and I think that the best thing for us to do is to fish for a couple of hours and then have a good dinner."

This they did, and when they returned to the camping place they found that Pierre had the ducks steaming in the pot and that supper was practically ready. They enjoyed that supper most heartily, for they had had a very hard day. They sat around the camp fire that night until a little later than usual for it was a wonderful night. The stars seemed right above them. One big planet stood right over the top of a distant mountain and it looked exactly like a big incandescent light hung there to light the travelers on their way.

Pierre was more talkative than usual. He told them that he had been on this lake and that he now recognized that he had been half way back to the gulch. He told of killing a big bear nearby one summer. He pointed off to a distant mountain and said that it had occurred over there. He had seen the bear while scouting for timber for one of the big lumber companies. The bear, when he saw him, was about two miles away on a mountain opposite to him. He determined to get him if possible. He crossed over to the other ridge and had great trouble in locating the bear again. Finally he did so. He worked around to the other side of the bear so that the wind would not carry his scent to the bear. Finally he got within one hundred yards of the bear. The latter then showed signs of uneasiness, and as there were some thick woods near Pierre thought that he had better not take a further chance.

He gave the bear one shot, which hit him in the shoulder. The bear, in a frenzy, rushed straight at him. He had only an old-fashioned rifle and before he could break his gun and put in another cartridge the bear was only a few feet away. Taking hasty aim at the glaring eye of the bear, he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the bear plump in the eye and he dropped dead in his tracks.

"Gosh!" said Pud. "I don't know what I'd do if I saw a wounded bear coming right at me. I guess I'd drop my gun and run."