The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1898-04-21
A Bear on a Tobossan.
=. By Paul Pastnor. =.
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES

self, all chums, and all about the same
age, lived in little back-country town
in the northeastern part of New Hamp-
shire. We were farmers boys, and,
like most boys and men of backwoods
communities, enjoyed going hunting
occasionally, when farm work and
school permitted. Game, both large
and small, was PLENTIFUL and It was
no unusual thing to find deer, bear,
or wildcat. hung up in front Of the
village store as proof of the skill or
bravery of some local Nimrod.
There was considerable rivalry
among the boys of the village, to see
who would be the first to win distinc-
ton by killing bear. Only one young
fellow had succeeded in doing this be-
fore our day, and though he was now
married and had a family of very small
boys of his own, the glory of the deed
still clung to him, and he was even then
accorded certain measure of honor by
his fellow-citizens, as "the man who
killed a bear when he was 49,"
1t is hardly necessary to say that
Fred, Charley and I were wild to emu
late the deed of Mr.. Byron Potter, as
his name was, and so share with him
the distinction of having been "the
champion boy hunter of the country"
Mr.. Potter, being no longer boy, his
mantle, of course, ought to fall upon
somebody who was. And the glory of
1t seemed ample enough for three of us.
So when Charley Robbins came run
ming breathlessly one winter morning,
to tell me that one of his fathers sheep
had been carried of in the night by
bear, and that Bruins tracks could be
plainly seen crossing the pasture in the
direction of the woods, the first thought
that occurred to both of us. after
1ningling all our ordinations of excite
ment and delight, was to go and tell
Fred, and get him to join us in an all.
days hunt for the marauder. Before
either of us had tasted bite Of break
fast, we hurried to Fred's house, and
confided the glorious news to him.
The opportunity had come for us to
distinguish ourselves. We agreed that
we would have that bear, or perish in
the attempt.
As soon as we could get our break
|
heavily loaded with buckshot, over our
shoulders. Fred took his toboggan, as
he said, "to bring the bear home on;"
and as things turned out It was very
lucky that he did. We also had Mr..
Braces big deerhound Dan, who was
an excellent bear dog. Dan went
numbering on ahead through the snow,
and il wasn't long after he struck the
bears trail, back of Charley's house,
before the old fellow was baying on
the scent with an eagerness that made
the blood race in our veins.
Tie snow was over foot Deep and
we had no trouble in following Bruins
well-marked pathway through the
woods. The dragging carcass Of the
sheep made quite wide furrow,
| splotched over now and then with
blood.
Right over the top Of "Little Sad
dleback" went the bear, and down into
the valley beyond Here, through a
deep ravine, flowed Stony brook,
dear TO the hearts of trout-loving boys.
| BY the time we reached the brook
old Dan was barking 30 madly, quar-
ter OF mile below us, and high up on
the opposite bank, that we rightly
judged he must have either brought
Bruin to bay, or found the animals
den. HuTrying down the bed Of the
brook as fast as we could 60 we came
in few minutes to place where there
had been landslide. The loosened
| earth had started near the base of q
small cliff, some 300 feet above the
brook, and slid down into the water,
which II had turned, for short dis
tance, into q new channel At the
base OF the cliff was large opening
| that looked like cave. In front Of
this, on projecting shelf, or thresh-
old Of rock, stood old Dan, barking
Justify. :.
"Hurrahi" cried Fred. "That's
where the bears gone! Old Dan says
les in there. But it's hard place to
get at the rascal, isn't it?"
It certainly did seem 30. The bank
was steep and entirely bare Of trees. It
was covered with glistening sheet Of
snow; and we all wondered how the
bear could have climbed up to his den,
carrying sheep in his mouth.
We stood watching the cave for half
an hour or more. Old Dan got tired
barking at last, and whistle from Fred
brought him down to US Still the bear
did not see fit to show himself, and,
anxious though we were to get shot
at him, none of us felt like climbing
the bank to toll the old fellow out.
Finally brilliant idea seemed to
strike Fred, and he began all Of sud-
den to bleat like lamb. Fred was an
excellent mimic, and the bleating was
wonderfully true to life, plaintive, and
with that indescribable quaver in the
long-drawn ma-a-a that IL character
istic of young, unweaned lamb. In
less than two minutes out came Bruin
on his shelf Of rock and began to sniff
the air, moving his head from side to