The Sun.
London, England, 1866-03-14 00:00:00

Bear Hunting in Norway.

(From Land and Water.)

After my adventure with the calf, I would try
another part of the country (it was the calf's ghost
I dreaded really). " Would Ole like to accompany

me ?"

Catch Ole staying behind ! I was his harvest,
and it would have been a matter attended with no
little difficulty to have got rid of him, had I wished
it. He was, moreover, a very useful fellow; and
obliging too ; and I daresay not more of a knave
than all hunters are in general, and Norwegian in
particular. So I took him.
Next morning we started, and within a week's time
had pitched our camp on some mountains near Ler-
del, on the Sogne Fjord. I passed a very pleasant
time of it ; for though I had not as, yet caught the
most distant glimpse of a bear-skin, yet the pure
air, the wild scenery, and the free life .1 was lead-
ing, proved some compensation for all my disappoint-
ments and vexations. Several tracks of bear had,
indeed, been seen of different degrees of freshness,
and that was all ; and I was at last beginning to

despair of winning my bet. For my time was nearly
up, and in ten days I must be starting for England.

One (ever-memorable) day I had sent Ole into
the village of Lerdel to get the letters, and to bring
a supply of bread and other necessaries; and dur-
ing his absence, determined to take a botanical ex-
cursion, for the purpose of gathering some of the
rare Alpine plants that grew on the mountain side,
I shouldered my rifle to be ready for any emer-
gencies, and started on my journey.
Was I dreaming ? Was lin a state of somnam-
bulism ? Had the tension my nerves had so long
undergone turned my brain ? I-could not credit my
eyes; were those bear tracks? Yes, they were un-
doubtedly genuine ! No phantom bear could have
left that impress on the soft clay ; and what was still
better, they were evidently very fresh. How I longed
for Ole, or, rather, for his sagacious little dog ! But
it was too good a chance to be thrown away, and,
forgetting all about my botanical propensities, I set
off in chase. How cautiously I proceeded—no In-
dian tracker could have done his work better. It
was at last going to be crowned with success; I should
win my bet; retrieve my mistake I had

Still on and on the chase led me ; up-hill, down-
hill, across mountain streams, through thick brush,
till at length it entered an apparently boundless
forest. Here Bruin had evidently been squatting and
regaling himself on strawberries. Maybe he was not
far off. If I came on him sleeping, should I shobt
him so ? No, that would be decidedly unfair—but
—I needn't tell any one about that. . . Yes, he
must be hard by, for I had cast round the place, and
there were no tracks on the other side. How cau-
tiously I peeped and peered through bushes, fancy-
ing every log or trunk of a tree was my friend. At
length I saw him ; and to my joy discovered that it
was a real bona fide bear, in all his native freedom.
Fortunately, he had not discovered my proximity,
for the wild strawberries seemed to engross all his
ursine thoughts. The revolver was loaded, if it
should come to close quarters. Well, to make a long
story shorter, I at length got him in a good position,
and sent a two ounce bullet crashing through his
shoulder, and Bruin rolled over with a roar and bit
the dust.

Never shall I forget the ecstacy I experienced. To
have killed a bear was indeed something, but to have
killed him by myself entirely was a feather in my
cap indeed. Already visions of a procession into the
village, headed by the defunct Bruin, and accom-
panied by bands of music, floated across my enrap-
tured vision, and I doubt not that I should have
worked out the whole programme of the festivities
that would take place, had it not occurred to me
that the sun was sinking, and that I had three or
four hours walking before me.
On closer inspection I found my Bruin to be a very
thin and emaciated specimen ; decidedly mangy,
especially about the neck. It struck me as being odd,
because I had always thought bears were extremely
fat at that season, just before hybernating. How-
ever, there must be exceptions, I comforted myself,
and doubtless this was one—a poorly bear. Still it
was a bear, sick or well ! and I had won my bet,
and retrieved my honour. As I could see the skin
would be useless to me, I contentedmyself with cut-
ting off his tail, more for the purpose of convincing
Ole, who might otherwise be rather incredulous on
the subject, and lighting my pipe made back tracks.
Fortunately it was a bright evening, and I expe-
rienced no difficulty in finding my way. Joy, I sup-
pose, shortened my journey, and helped me along. I
had arrived within a mile of my tent, when I espied
Ole in company with two men hastening towards
me. Their eyes were eagerly bent towards the ground,
as if in search of some object. " Oh, yes, it was quite
plain. Ole had missed me, and becoming alarmed
had procured assistance, .and was now following on
my tracks. Faithful fellow, he shall have another
dollar."

In a few minutes we met, and I was only fore-
stalled in my intention of blurting out my good news
with a self-satisfied air by Ole's asking me " whether
I had seen a bear !" "Is it likely, my good Ole ?"
and a smile curled the corners of my lips. " Because,',
he went on " these two men were bound for Bergen
fair with a tame bear ; but it broke loose over night,
and they have been searching for it ever since
morning."

I shan't forget their looks in a hurry ; there could
not be a shadow of a doubt but that I had sacrificed
their dancing bear. It was too much ! ten times
more galling than the confounded calf ; any man
might mistake that for a bear in the dark ! Poor
devils, how they did cry . . . all the dollars they
had expected to gain at the fair would never be rea-
lised—their livelihood was gone—they were ruined.
Such I gathered from their incoherent tale.
And what was Itodo ? Here was a pretty mess.
What a fool Thad made of myself—killed a calf in
one part of the country, and shot a tame bear in
another. Charming little tale for the club !

My meditations were interrupted by their again
asking me "if I had seen a bear ?" " Seen a bear !
Oh, no—l had been picking wild flowers out—there,"
I blurted out—pointing in a totally different direc-
tion to that in which I had gone.
And the men went on their way, not indeed re-
joicing ! "Any letters, Ole ?" Ole handed me one.
A bright thought struck me.
" Ole," I said, after hastily glancing at the con-
tents," I must start for England at once." And
there and then we struck camp, and never halted
till several miles intervened between me and my pos-
sible pursuers. But I don't think they would have
followed me, for I left as a " gift from the Eng-
lishman," at the house where they had put up, a roll
of dirty-backed dollars, which, doubtless, served to
pacify them. To Ole I never breathed a word about
the matter. Indeed, I would rather have lost 10 dol-
lars than have told him.

Of course, I had won my bet ; I had killed a bear,
but I never claimed it. I have kept the stump of the
dancing-bear's tail ; it serves as a pen-wiper, and
as a reminiscence of my adventures.
Need I add, that having once killed a bear I shall

never try to kill another. That season cost me
much. . . . And I see in my journal two significant
items, " Twenty dollars to Lula (such was the &peter
girl's name) for VEAL !" " Twenty-five dollars for a
D —B." (a dancing-bear.)

A Parliamentary return was published yesterday
showing the cost of conversion of timber in her
Majesty's dockyards, and of articles manufactured in the
respective dockyard and steam factory workshops, together
with the cost thereof in excess of or less than rate book
prices, for the year 1864-657 in order that the same may
be laid before Parliament, in accordance with the course
pursued in respect to similar accounts for previous years.
A SHIP OF THE 64 OLD SCHOOL."—Last week there
sailed from Hull, amid the cheers of a great multitude, the
bark Truelove, the only vessel despatched this year from
Hull to the Davis Straits' whale fisheries. The Truelove is
under the command of Captain Wells, a name associated
with the most successful period of the whale fisheries. The
Truelove is one of the oldest vessels afloat. She was built
at Philadelphia, United States, in the year 1764, and is
consequently 102 years old. At that time the spot on
which she was built was one of the plantations from which
much wood was taken for the build of British vessels•
About half the long life of the Truelove has been spent in
the whale fishery trade, but she was formerly in the Oporto
wine trade.