Omaha daily bee., 1882-09-20
HUNTING A MONTANA BEAR.
Herding Bruin in a Spring Wagon
Across q Prairie.

white sulutr- -gilbgs (Mont) Ctrr5spondence
Deer Lodge NoS Northwest.
Whether or not a man desireth to
be healthy, wealthy, and wise, he
must yet rise early if no would take
the White Sulphur Springs coach at
Laney's en- route for Helena. Such
was the object of Mr.. David Folsom,
of Smith River Valley, as after a 3
o'clock breakfast he stepped into his
spring wagon this morning tho 10Th
to be driven by Mr.. Aaron Goodale
toward that station. Beyond Mr..
Folsom's meadow the road ia un.
fenced, and out of sheer perversity,
or, perhaps, with intent to run into
as many bitches as possible, meanders
diagonally across a threo.mile stretch
of sage brush, prickly pear, and bad
ger holes, the ascent to the plateau
beyond is through a gulch 80 deep that
a team climbing this rise would BIO en-
tirely hidden from any one standing
but a little way above.
Mr.. Folsom had scarcely reached
the brow of this hill when his horses
stopped with a quick snort, and he be-
held al a few rods distance a CHINA.
mon bear standing face toward him
in the middle of the road. The
only arms of Mr.. Folsom and his com.
panion were the jack. knife, without
which the Yankee is not, and an ordi-
nary carriage whip. But 10! doth a
man watch two nights in vain for the
bear which hath stolen his eve lamb,
to pass him in the highway with a
cold obeisance2 Not 30. MI. Fol.
som conceived the idea of pressing
my lord bruin to return with him to
his ranch. He accordingly put his
horses into a run, and making as
short a circuit a possible, was soon
between the bear and the mountains,
for which the beast was making with
all convient speed. 1t looked for a
single instant as If the bear had a no.
ton of contrasting the right of way.
But it Is supposible that he mistook
the two plunging horses, the long
spring-wsgon, and it's two shouting
occupants for n and tho same sui
generis for which he had no use, and
he struck off ~diagonally for the valley.
The circle had been made with COM
parative ease on the level service of
the plateau, but in this headlong race
down the bluf-over sage
brush, badger.holes, rocks,
bitches the wagon leapsd,
swayed, and pitched like q
mad thing. 1t is no wonder that poor
bruin again turned his ourse ~hen,
after a chase of a mile, this jerking,
flying, roaring phenomenon appeared
between him and the mountains. To
the great delight of his pursuers, in
stead of crossing tho road again he
kept 1t for half a mile and until he
was within two miles of Mr.. Folsom's
house, when he made another wild
rush around the fences for the noun
tains. Such was his extraordinary
swiftness and endurance that even on
the open road Mr.. Folsom was oblig-
ed to keep his horses at their sharpest
trot in order to equal the bears speed,
and when again their course lay ovar
the sage.brush he had run a mile be.
fore they could overtake him by their
maddest galloping, retarded as they
were by a wagon which the actors in
this scene gravely aver bounced twen-
ty-fve feet into the air at every
plunge of the horses.
But at last--was bruin after all to
escape them2--he leaped the five.rail
fence like a deer, and with apparently
undiminished speed rushed through
the pasture. 1t is needless to say
that his pursuers made short work Of
the fence, but meantime he had dis
tanced them considerably, and among
the fences he undoubtedly had the
best OF them. The chase continued as
madly as before, but only for a few
moments, for, like another brave
Montanian, poor lord bruin "resolved
to have o drink il it was the last act of
his military career" His tongue was
lolling far out, his eyes were bursting
with the heat, he in~discreetly plunged
into a deep slough, thereby signing
his own death warrant. The wagon
was driven at full speed toward the
house, Mr.. Folsom shouting to the
men to saddle his horse and bring his
gun. Ten minutes later a sharp rifle
report, followed by a groan and a
splash, told that the cinnamon bear,
which had been herded for four miles
IN a spring wagon, would no mora
trouble the ewe lamb OF the flock.
The skin, a remarkably fine one, Mr..
Folsom will have made into a rug as a
gilt to his wife and a last trophy of
this most remarkable bear hunt
DAVID KENYON.