I have been very susceptible to bee stings all my life. Several years
before this a bumble bee had stung me on my upper lip, and my whole face
was swollen out of shape for many days. I suppose that fact had
something to do with the peculiar action of this sting. At any rate, I
was in great misery, and lay in camp with my eyes swollen shut for three
days before the swelling began to abate. I drank great quantities of the
sulphur water, and bathed my face in it continuously.

The morning after the yellow-jacket incident, Chauvin and the
roustabout, the latter taking my gun, left me in bed and went out after
deer. They left without breakfast, about daylight. Shortly afterwards,
two of the horses broke loose and ran through camp terror stricken. The
third horse strained at his stake rope, but did not break it. He snorted
and stamped at a great rate. The loose horses did not leave camp, but
kept up a constant running and snorting for some time. When Chauvin came
back, he found that a bear had come down from the mountains near by,
torn down and partially devoured one of the deer we had killed the night
before, not one hundred yards from where I lay in bed.

Don Elogio de Celis, a well known citizen of Los Angeles, was camped in
a canyon about a mile west of us. That afternoon he killed a grizzly
bear of pretty good proportions, and we all supposed that he was the
marauder who had visited our camp that morning.

While I was laid up Chauvin got two more bucks, several tree squirrels
and some mountain quail. We made plenty of jerky, while living off the
fat of the land.

About four or five days after I was stung, the swelling went down
sufficiently for me to see again, but I had lost my appetite for further