The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1866-08-09
and I determined to catch that bar, go to

and l determined TO eaten tnat oar, 60 10
Texas, or die-and 1 made my prepara-
tions accordin'. 1 had the pack shut up
and rested. l took my rifle to pieces, and
lied it. put caps in every pocket about
my person, for fear Of the lining. then
told my neighbors that on Monday morn
ing-naming the day would start that
bar, and bring him home with me, or they
might divide my settlement among them
the owner having disappeared. Well,
stranger, on the morning previous to the
great day of my hunting expedition, L
went into the woods near my house,
taking my gun and Bowie-knife along
just from habit, and there sitting down also
from habit, what should I see, getting
over my fence, but the bar! Yes, the old
varmint was within hundred yards of
me, and the way he walked over that
fsnce-stranger, he loomed up like black
mist, he seemed so large, and he walked
right towards me. Iraised myself, took
deliberate aim and fired. Instantly the
varmint wheeled, gave yell, and '0alked
through the fence like falling tree would
through cobweb. I started after, but
was tripped up by inexpressibles, which
either from habit, or the excitement of
the moment, were about my heels. and
before 1 had really gathered myself up, 1
heard the old varmint groaning in a
thicket near by, like thousand sinners,
and by the time l reached him he was a
corpse Stranger, it took five niggers
and myself to put that carcase on mules
back, and old long ears wadded under
his load, as if he was foundcred in every
leg of his body, when with common
whopper of a bar, he would have trotted
off, and enjoyed himself. 'Twould aston
isb you to know how big he was-I made
a bed spread of his skin, and the way it used
to cover my bar mattrass, and leave sew
eral feet on each side to tuck up, would
have delighted you. 1t was in fact crea-
tion bar, and if it had lived in Samson's
time, and had met him, in fair fight, it
would have licked HIM in the twnkling
of q dice box. But stranger never liked
the way l hunted him, and missed him..
There is something curious about it, L
could never understand-and never was
satisfied at his giving up so easy at last.
Perhaps he heard of my preparations to
hunt him the next day, SO he jist come
in, like Capt Scett's coon, to save his
wind to grunt with in dying; but that
amt likely. My private, opinion is, that
the bar was an unhuntable bar, and died
u7en his time come"
When the story was ended, our hero
sat some minutes with his auditors in Il
grave silence; I saw that there was a
mystery to him connected with the bear
whose death he had just related, that had
evidently made a strong impression on
his mind 1t was also evident that there
was some superstitious awe connected
with the affair-a feeling common with
all "children of the wood" when they
meet with anything out of their every
day experience. He was the first one,
however, to break the silence, and jump
ing up he asked all present to "liquor"
before going to bed-a thing which he
did, with a number of companions, evi-
dently to his hearts content.
Long before day, I was put ashore at
my place of destination, and 1 can only
follow with the reader in imagination
our Arkansas friend in his adventures a,
the "Forks of Cypress" on the Missis
sippi. L. Is. L.