The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1888-02-29
A FOREST BATTLE.

n i OlblSl DIAL 1lus
A correspondent of the New York Sun,
writing from Fort Custer, Montana, says:
One day Long Dog aud l had gone out
with hunting party of young bucks
that were securing the country for buff
falo sign in the neighborhood of Pump
kin Buttes. The party had divided up
and spread out over the county in twos
and threes. Long Dog and and
young buck named Two Knives struck
off together up through the cottonwood
timber that fringes the river for a width
Of half mile or so. Before going far
we bow!ed over a fine buck elk, and
started Two Knives back to camp with
the carcase. Long Dog and 1 kept on
up through the cottonwoods. An hour
or so after parting company with young
Two Knives we caught sight of big
silver-tip bear on the other side of the
river. He was standing on his hind legs,
digging the touchwood out of hollow
tree This is a favorite pastime of bears,
and particularly brown bears and silver
tips who have keen part!ality for the
big, fat inch grubs that make their home
in the decayed cottonwood.
The bear was so absorbed in his put
suit that we had no trouble in wheeling
our cayuses around and retreating out of
sight without attracting attention. It
was about 00yards from where we stood
to the bear, and Long Dog and both
agreed that to pump lead at a silver.tip
at that distance would be merely waste
of good ammunition.
"What had we better do, Long Dog7"
said I.
"Ugh, heap KILL" replied the Injun;
and, pointing down the river, he led the
way in an almost opposite direction from
the bear. We continued on down to a
ford, where a bend in the river hid us
from the bear, and crossed over Riding
on up the other side short distance
we htched the bronchos behind clump
of box alders and proceeded cautiously
toward the bear. The immediate edge
of the river was thickly fringed with
box alders and mountain willows, and
through these we at length began to
crawl on hands and knees. with the idea
of taking the silver tip by surprise at
close quarters. We had almost got to
the point where we had been expecting
to be able to use our Winchestcrs with
some certainty when Long Dog halted,
and, without uttering grunt, reached
back and tapped me cautiously on
the back with his mocassin. Seeing
me peer inquiringly through the brush,
in the direction of the touchwood tree,
Long Dog raj, ed one dusky finger, and
without moving another muscle in his
body, pointed it toward clump of will
lows standing, I should say, thirty feet
to the right of the tree, and about three
times that distance from US. The space
between our ambush and the clump was
quite open, and was traversed by deer
path that led up from the water The
deer-path led straight through the will
low clump, and, following the direction
of Long Dogs finger, saw in the mar
row, alley-like deer-path long, cat-like
tail waving to and fro. 1t was the tail
of full grown mountain lion, an object
familiar enough to me, for l had killed
around dozen of the varmints in my time.
No part of the lion was visible save his
tail, for the willows were thick between
US and his body.
Long log seemed to comprehend the
situation at once, for when l glanced at
his finger the next moment it had turned
like weather vane and was pointing in
the direction of the bear. With the keen
perception of savage. the old Injun
hunter, knew at a glance that the noun
tain lion was lying there watching the
movements of the bear, and hadn't the
least suspicion Of our own presence. Our
situation was thrilling one, even Tor all
old hunter. From where we lay, scarcely
daring to draw breath for fear of bet:ay-
ing our presence, we could see one side
of the silver tips big hairy body as he
stood up and clawed away at the hollow
tree, and on the other hand there was the
mountain lions fourfoot tail waving to
and tro in the narrow deer path like the
tail of an angry cat. All of sudden,
biff went big tawny object through
the Hir as quickly and noiSelrssly as if
it had been the flash Of a shodow But
now the silence, which had hardly been
viol2ted at all by the industrious bear at
the tree, was broken rudely by whole
wcodful of savage roars, youfs, snaps,
snarls and stand offs. Under the cotton
wood tree stood big mountain lion in an
attitude of defiance, scowling at the bear,
which looked anxious to attack him and
yet half inclined to back away.
There is always something unspeak-
ably comical about bear to me, which
ever way you take him, and even under
the exciting conditions of the occasion
the old silver tip seemed to me to wear
clownish look. He stood there few
moments weaving his big numbering
body backward and forward, as though
he didn't care pine needle whether the
lion intending tackling him again or not.
. Yet we could see the blood gently oozing
out OF the long silvery wool on his