but failed to cut the back-bone by an inch or two. Enraged and
desperate, she sprang upon the dogs, who, emboldened by the presence of
their masters, came too close. With one of her enormous paws she came
down on old Beaver, making a large wound in his side, which nearly
killed him. He was hardly able to crawl out of the swamp.

"The fight was then abandoned until morning, as without Beaver to lead
the dogs it was useless to proceed. It was difficult to get the old dog
home, but he finally got well. Early in the morning the hunters were on
the ground. This time they had their guns with them, but found the old
bear was gone. On examining her nest of the night before, her unusual
ferocity was explained. She had a litter of cubs, which, however, she
had succeeded in removing, and must have carried them off in her mouth.
In a short time the dogs had tracked her out. She was found a half mile
lower down the swamp, where she had a new nest. Butler's rifle soon
dispatched her; but her cubs, four in number, and not more than three or
four weeks old, were taken alive, and kept for pets."

Father said that he could remember when they brought the bears home,
growling, snarling--the crossest little things he ever saw.

Strange as it may seem, my father did not inherit grandfather's love for
hunting. I never saw him shoot a gun, and he has never owned one within
my recollection.

Orin Loomis was often heard to say that Phin. Butler was the most
courageous man he ever knew. He was quick-tempered, but warm-hearted,
and full of fun, and as honest and sincere as he was bold and fearless.
One time he was traveling, and stopped at a tavern. The strangers
present were discussing the statement that every man has his price, and