fall a victim to the grisly, when the big bear is in the mood to turn
hunter. Wapiti are found in the same places as the grisly, and in some
spots they are yet very plentiful; they are less shy and active than
deer, while not powerful enough to beat off so ponderous a foe; and they
live in cover where there is always a good chance either to stalk or to
stumble on them. At almost any season bear will come and feast on an
elk carcass; and if the food supply runs short, in early spring, or in
a fall when the berry crop fails, they sometimes have to do their
own killing. Twice I have come across the remains of elk, which had
seemingly been slain and devoured by bears. I have never heard of elk
making a fight against a bear; yet, at close quarters and at bay, a bull
elk in the rutting season is an ugly foe.

A bull moose is even more formidable, being able to strike the most
lightning-like blows with his terrible forefeet, his true weapons of
defense. I doubt if any beast of prey would rush in on one of these
woodland giants, when his horns were grown, and if he was on his guard
and bent on fight. Nevertheless, the moose sometimes fall victims to
the uncouth prowess of the grisly, in the thick wet forests of the high
northern Rockies, where both beasts dwell. An old hunter who a dozen
years ago wintered at Jackson Lake, in northwestern Wyoming, told me
that when the snows got deep on the mountains the moose came down and
took up their abode near the lake, on its western side. Nothing molested
them during the winter. Early in the spring a grisly came out of its
den, and he found its tracks in many places, as it roamed restlessly
about, evidently very hungry. Finding little to eat in the bleak,
snow-drifted woods, it soon began to depredate on the moose, and killed
two or three, generally by lying in wait and dashing out on them as they
passed near its lurking-place. Even the bulls were at that season weak,
and of course hornless, with small desire to fight; and in each case the