The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-07-02
THE REPORTER AND THE BEAR.
A Humorous sketch.
BY EVERETT N'NEIL.

tobacco down into his pipe with his finger,
and resumed his smoking ana his story
telling. IN them days these mountains
an valleys were covered with a heavy
growth Of timber an fun of bears an
wolves an wild cats. an such like crit
tiers with long claws an sharp teeth ]
lived over on Doc mountain, just across
Sass'fras valley from here, I'D as snug a
little log cabin as you would want TO see.
an used to earn morc'n enough to Keep
me in tobacco an powder an balls guild
ing the hunters who came up from New
York an Bostin to XIII bear am deer
But they weren't no real hunters. least
wise not many Of them; an IF they got
a bear or a deer it was usually my old
rife what killed g. But I suspect they
didn't tell it that waywhen S1ey got back
to the city; an as they always paid me
well I kept mum. But that amt my story.
zone day, as ! sat on log in front ot
the door of my house, shay ng the fat OFT
a bear skin, / heard some one yellin
down IN the woods.
Hello there" the yell said
Hello yourself / shouted back.
Come down to the road I've got a
guest for your hotel an then ] knowed IL
was old Dave Utter. who sometimes drove
the hunters up TO my place from Cats Eve
Mills. nine miles down the valley. He
couldn't come no nearer 20 the house be-
cause Of the trees and the rocks, so ne
yelled.
q went down 20 the road to see what
Dave had broueht me.
Here's a Teller that's after bear Can
you take him? Dave shouted the moment
he caught sight of me
! reckon. Let him jump out with his
vauables
The man was a tall, thin specimen Of
a city chap with an uncommon large
mouth an a long, thin nose, a-loomiu' up
between two high check bones He Waru't
Old not more'n % at the most.
Are you Luke Jones, the bearhunter?
he asked. lookin' at me.
That's my name / answered an I
hunt bears
""Can you find a bear for me to kin?
~ reckon.
IAN right Help me with my traps up
10 your place
HE had a great handbag that weighed
about a ton. containing am milton enough
to kill all the bears in the state of PENN
sylvania, an the first magazine rifle I ever
saw. A big horse pistol an a long knife
were stuck in a broad belt around his mid
die. Sure, an he was loaded for bear
within ten minutes he had told me
conidentialy that he was a reporter on q
big New York daily, an had run up just
20 kill a bear, so as to tell mis- readers eX-
acty how it was done. / soon discovered
that he knoWod more about bears in one
mint than l had learned in oil my tramp
In up an down the woods LeastWise he
thought he did, an ] didn't care. for it
gave him whole lot of satisfaction, an /
knowed that tomorrow was a-cOmin' an
! had in mind the Identical old she bear
! would turn him loose on.
THAT night after turnin' in. he cleaned
his rife at least a dozen times an every
time he told me just how he was a-soin
10 Kill The bear, an cautioned me, under
no circumstances. to do any shootin my
self. Find the bear an I'll do the rest
he said.
THE next mornin' the dog-goned idiot
woke me up at O'Clock an told me 20
get move on me. as bears were uncom-
mon early risers an would be a nosin'
round for their breakfast long before sum
rise. an he wanted 10 kill his bear an be
back in New York in time to get his story
in the paper that night I never saw a
feller so all-fired hot for bear as he was.
well, we had our eat an were ready
to start by 4 o'clock.
You might leave your gun here lie
said, as he saw me pick UP my rife I'm
to do all the shoOtin', you know
Well, / won't l replied, shortly
Where l goes in these woods my gun
goes
90 he said, YOU needn't be afraid I
could pump a bear as fun of holes as a
sieve with this here gun of mine afore he
could touch you. The magazine holds six
teen shots an he smiled.
GoldaTn your old pump I says back.
When l shoots bear ! shoots them with
balls. I don't pump holes into them /
was considerable riled, but l didn't say
more, because l had in mind that old she
bear, an I knowed enough about bear ma
ture an man nature TO know ther'd be
trouble when them two collided.
ut was a beautiful mornin'. The air
smelled sweet an fresh. with just a touch
of pine in 1t. an the sky was as clear as
a whistle. l felt sure ! could walk rght
onto the old bear nestlin' down under the
roots of a great tree. which the wind had
blown down, an where she had been keep
in house for the last month. As we went
deeper into the woods, an the rocks am
the trees an all began 10 look more wild
like, l could see Mr. Reporter beginning
10 get nervous, an the way he kept fin
germ the trigger of his gun made me
mighty careful how l walked 10 front OF
him.
well after about an hours hard tramp
We came to the spot where the bear ought
TO be. II was a wild lookin' place down in
a deep gully, all overgrown with under
brush. l told Mr.. Reporter that l reckon
ed we We're near bear. He cooked his
rifle an began to look scarf; buy. with a
desperate show of courage, he again eau
toned me not to do any shootn'. When
we were within about two rods of the
fallen tree, an where l could look into the
hole under the roots, stopped an picked
up great stone.
a." Get ready says l.
Where! Where" an he looked wildly
around.
There and I hurled the great stone
with all my strength right into the hole.
"Jininey! You oughter see that bear
come flynn out of that hole an make
straight for the reporter. She was growl-
in like thunder storm an her hair stood
on end all over her body, so that she look
ed as big as an OK
"Mr. Reporter threw his rife wildly 10
his shoulder an fired As luck womb
have it. the ball struck the bear some
where in the side an made her madden
than ever. For one desperate moment
Mr.. Reporter tried TO pump her fnu Of
HOES, but he was so clustered an scarf
that he couldn't make the blamed old