Our hunters, assured that both bears were dead, now descended from their respective perches; but the sight of Pouchskin, with one leg in stocking, and the other buried up to the thigh in a great horse-skin boot, would have been too much for the gravity of a judge, and his young masters were once more merry at his expense.
Having skinned the bears, they returned to the fort with their spoils—to the no slight astonishment of some of the old trappers stationed there. They could scarce believe that these young strangers were capable of accomplishing such a feat as the conquest of a couple of full-grown grizzlies. The thing had been done, however—as the trophies testified—and it is needless to say that our hunters, by this gallant action, gained golden opinions from the “mountain men.”
They had no desire, however, to try another contest of the kind. They had become perfectly satisfied of the great peril to be expected in an encounter with “Old Ephraim;” and were only too well pleased of having it in their power, on all future occasions, to imitate the example of other travellers, and give the grizzly a “wide berth.”
Indeed, they would have had no opportunity, had they desired it, to hunt the bear any longer in that neighbourhood: for the “boat” brigade, with which they were travelling, started the next day for Fort Pelly; and it was necessary for them to accompany it, as the journey could not otherwise be accomplished.
They arrived at this last-named place in safety; and, with some native traders, that chanced to be at the fort, they were enabled to proceed onward to the Russian settlement of Sitka—where the magic cipher which Alexis carried in his pocket procured them the most hospitable treatment that such a wild, out-of-the-way place could afford.
They had been fortunate, upon their route, to procure a skin of the “cinnamon” bear—as well as one of black colour with a white breast, both of which Alexis was able to identify as mere varieties of the ursus americanus. These varieties are sometimes seen to the east of the Rocky Mountains; but they are far more common throughout the countries along the Pacific—and especially in Russian America, where the cinnamon-coloured kind is usually termed the “red bear.” They occur, moreover, in the Aleutian islands; and very probably in Japan and Kamschatka—in which country bears are exceedingly numerous—evidently of several species, confusedly described and ill identified. Unfortunately, the Russian naturalists—whose special duty it has been to make known the natural history of the countries lying around the North Pacific—have done their work in a slovenly and childlike manner.
