he said, and that his companion was actually killed by a bear; but it
is probable that he was mistaken in reading the signs of his comrade's
fate, and that the latter was not dogged by the bear at all, but
stumbled on him and was slain in the surprise of the moment.

At any rate, cases of wanton assaults by grislies are altogether out
of the common. The ordinary hunter may live out his whole life in the
wilderness and never know aught of a bear attacking a man unprovoked;
and the great majority of bears are shot under circumstances of no
special excitement, as they either make no fight at all, or, if they
do fight, are killed before there is any risk of their doing damage.
If surprised on the plains, at some distance from timber or from badly
broken ground, it is no uncommon feat for a single horseman to kill
them with a revolver. Twice of late years it has been performed in the
neighborhood of my ranch. In both instances the men were not hunters out
after game, but simply cowboys, riding over the range in early morning
in pursuance of their ordinary duties among the cattle. I knew both
men and have worked with them on the round-up. Like most cowboys, they
carried 44-calibre Colt revolvers, and were accustomed to and
fairly expert in their use, and they were mounted on ordinary
cow-ponies--quick, wiry, plucky little beasts. In one case the bear
was seen from quite a distance, lounging across a broad table-land. The
cowboy, by taking advantage of a winding and rather shallow coulie, got
quite close to him. He then scrambled out of the coulie, put spurs to
his pony, and raced up to within fifty yards of the astonished bear ere
the latter quite understood what it was that was running at him through
the gray dawn. He made no attempt at fight, but ran at top speed towards
a clump of brush not far off at the head of a creek. Before he could
reach it, however, the galloping horsemen was alongside, and fired three
shots into his broad back. He did not turn, but ran on into the bushes