The shades of night had now gathered, and we prepared to retire. The horses were brought near camp, and driving the large iron picket-pins deeply into the earth, they were firmly fastened, lest they should break loose and escape should anything extraordinary occur. The fire was now extinguished, that no enemy would be directed by it to our camp; and we lay down within our little fort to sleep. Nature could not have formed a more beautiful night. The sky was thickly studded with stars, and not a cloud was to be seen. The zephyrs softly and noiselessly fanned the valley, and but one noise could be heard—that was the sweet murmur of the little brook which rippled among the roots and pebbles by the very side of our bed. We for the first time felt lonely, and realized that the music of nature is sweet. Soon our eyes were closed in slumber; and without even a dream to disturb us, we slept sweetly until morn.
We ate a hearty breakfast,—which was chiefly the rich, delicious flesh of the antelope,—and then concluded to make another hunting-expedition, similar to the one the day before. Our belts were filled with cartridges, and our six-shooters and knives were buckled about us; and taking our big rifles, we left Will in camp as usual, and went off down the park. We came to a stream that rolled down the mountain-side among the thick pines; and knowing that deer kept in the thickets during the day, coming out night and morning to eat in the clear valleys, we concluded to follow this stream up the mountain. We caught sight of game on several occasions; but the timber was so dense that we could not see it until frightened, and we arrived at the mountain-top at twelve o’clock without making a successful shot. I now sought a clear place; and climbing upon a huge rock I placed the field-glass to my eyes, and looking down over the tree-tops into the valley below I could plainly see our camp. The horses were quietly grazing near by, and Will, from his position at the fire, was probably getting dinner. As everything seemed quiet, we felt no uneasiness concerning camp; and being but about four or five miles therefrom, we started over the opposite side of the mountain. We soon came to a small crystal lake; and for the first time since entering the park we saw Indian signs. There were many tracks upon the brink of the lake; and some being quite fresh, we were convinced that we came but a little too late for company. Several small canoes were floating loosely upon the water, and we supposed them to be used merely as pleasure-boats; for as the lake was about one hundred yards in diameter, they could be of but little use in travel. A boat-ride in the wild mountains is a rarity, and Indian or no Indian,
THE MOUNTAIN LAKE.
we concluded to have a boat-ride right there. So stepping aboard, I plied the rude oars, and we shot over the lake. It was fine sport, and we felt pretty good over a free boat-ride. After the first excitement had worn off, we began to consider our position. We were rowing the Indian’s canoe upon his own waters, and if seen by him would be considered trespassers; and at that very moment the eagle-eyes might be watching us from the surrounding pine-thickets. Though we did not care a darn for the trespass, we fully realized our helpless position in case of an attack, so we pulled for the shore.
Half of the afternoon had already passed away, and feeling pretty good over the boat-ride, we started for camp. About an hour before sunset we came to a very rugged part of the mountain, and feeling considerably wearied we sat down upon a log to rest. While looking around at the pretty scenery, we saw a small woolly animal lying in the leaves at the foot of the tree upon which we sat. It was apparently asleep; and approaching it cautiously we got within a few steps of it, when it discovered us and sprung to its feet. It was a cub bear. We rushed upon it, captured it, and concluded to take it to camp alive. The little fellow kept up a continuous growling and snapping; and after finding itself completely overpowered it uttered a loud, piercing cry, which was answered by a terrific roar just behind us in the bushes. Doc. said we had played h——l now; and turning around we beheld two large grizzly bears, with roach up and froth on their lips, rush out of the bushes but a few rods away, and with angry snarls were coming upon us. The grizzly bear is the most ferocious of the bear tribe, and will attack the hunter with the most desperate and persevering fierceness, especially in the defense of its young. The brutes were closely upon us, and not a moment was to be lost. Raising our large rifles to our shoulders, we both fired at the same instant; but, unfortunately, both shots were fired at the same bear, which for a moment stood paralyzed and then fell over dead. The other one was already standing upon his hind feet within a few feet of Doc., extending his affectionate arms for a hug, and from the looks of his mouth, a kiss too. In attempting to reload his rifle he found that the shell had stuck in the chamber, so dropping the rifle he drew his six-shooter; but before he could fire it was knocked from his hand by the powerful paw. Again Doc. grabbed up his gun, and by repeated blows with the heavy barrel over the nose, which is the most tender part of the bear, he succeeded for a few minutes in keeping bruin at bay. All this was the work of an instant, and I saw the necessity of a shot from my big rifle to stop the infuriated beast. So, having shoved a cartridge into the chamber, I took deliberate aim at the heart and fired. The bear shifted just as I pulled, and instead of the ball striking the heart, it entered a few inches above the intended mark, crushing the shoulder-bone. This completely disabled the left fore leg, and the animal fell at the report of the gun; but after rolling over two or three times upon the ground, he again reared upon his hind feet and renewed the contest with apparently increased fury. We now used the six-shooters,—known as forty-fives,—and which were also deadly weapons. Nine shots were fired, when the frenzied beast became subdued and fell dead at our feet. Upon examination, eight of these shots were found to be simply flesh-wounds, yet a solitary ball, having penetrated the heart, would necessarily have produced death. The conflict was now over, and we looked about for the pet cub. Just around the edge of the cliff we saw an entrance, leading, as we supposed, into a cave among the rocks. Here was doubtless the abode of the bruin family; and we supposed that the cub had gone in, but had no particular desire to go in to see.
We were soon on our way to camp, each carrying a bear-hide and a chunck of the meat. The hides were dried, and proved to be of much service. During the day they served as cushions for seats, and when the nights were cold they were our warmest covering. As we had often heard of bear-flesh being the most delicious of all meats, we were anxious for a taste. Accordingly, a quantity was at once placed upon the fire for supper. We were a little disappointed; but having exercised considerable during the day, it nevertheless tasted very well.
The next morning we set out to cross the park. About 3:00 P.M. we arrived at the opposite side, and concluded to camp until the morrow. We had scarcely halted when a single Indian came out of the pines, and manifesting friendliness, came up to our camp. He could speak a few words in English; and we soon found that he wanted a shooting-match. We disregarded his solicitations for a little while; but he still presisted. Doc. then took his rifle in his hand, and making him understand that he was the poorest shot in the party, showed him that he would shoot. The Indian appeared delighted; and walking away three hundred yards, he cut a notch in a tree with his tomahawk, and with utmost satisfaction came back to shoot. He expressed his desire that Doc. should shoot first; and without ceremony he fired, striking the center of the white chip. The red-man gave his shoulders a shrug, and with an “ugh” of surprise he refused to make a shot, and was soon gone away disgusted into the pines. There were doubtless many others among the surrounding hills, and this one had perhaps come out to test our ability with the rifle. They are cautious about approaching the unerring ball, but at the same time entertain comparatively little fear from the awkward marksman. They have entertained this dreadful fear of the big rifle in the hand of a good marksman ever since the year 1860, when a party down in Texas were rounded up by buffalo-hunters and the most of them picked off at a very long range. This information is in every tribe, and will doubtless become proverbial. “Why,” they say, “the big bullets are whizzing down in Texas yet, hunting Indians.”