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several rockets were put into the den, I heard the bear move, and presently it was discovered that he had gone out of the lower cave into another and higher den, to all appearance unassailable; it was a narrow cleft, between two huge rocks, ending in a den which turned at right angles from its entrance; accessible only by climbing a rock by which, and a drop beyond, the cleft was gained. I felt, I think reasonable, doubts of the wisdom of putting myself into a position from which retreat, in a hurry, would have been quite impossible. Acting, therefore, upon the better part of valour, I threw rockets in at the mouth of the den, but they fizzed idly in the entrance. I then had a pile of grass and branches thrown on the aperture, and a lighted brand tossed on them, and very soon there arose a tolerable blaze; but the bear would not come out, though he growled continually. At last, much to my disgust, I was obliged to leave him, for I hate to leave a wounded beast to languish and die; not to say that such imperfect success is exceedingly vexing. So I turned tentwards, tired and savage, blowing up the natives, and taunting my long-legged shikarry most unmercifully. So ended this day's work.

November 21st. This day's sport, being probably my last attack upon Bruin for some time to come, has been signalised by a very prodigious row. I determined to devote this morning to the bear and cubs, and accordingly went out long before dawn, and sat at the foot of a hill, close to the scene of yesterday's adventures. I remained on this hill, perched on the top of a heap of caves, till about 7 o'clock, but the bears did not appear, though it was quite evident that this was a favourite haunt of my greasy friends. We walked all over the rocks, disturbing a great number of spur fowl; and then I went to look at the cave where I met with defeat yesterday morning. I was leisurely walking, double gun in hand, along the foot of the hill, and was about climbing up its side, under a great collection of rocks covered, pretty thickly, with cactus trees and thorny creepers, and the natives who were with me were skipping from rock to rock, throwing stones into the thick bushes, when, suddenly, I heard a rustling sound behind me, and, turning round, saw the grey muzzle of a bear coming after me through the jungle. I had no idea that the bear would charge, and, consequently, waited for a clear shot; but, to my anger

and astonishment, when she arrived within twenty paces of where I was standing, she came straight at me with a grand roar! I fired, and hit her in the shoulder, but she did not fall; and, at the same moment, I saw a second bear burst out of the bushes; and, in another moment, a third appeared-all in full charge at me, yelling furiously. The two last bears were as big as the first, which was their mother. There was no time to be lost-all three were within ten yards of me, jumping, openmouthed. I fired the second barrel at the old bear, and, most fortunately, shot her dead; but the others came on, and were almost upon me. I had no time to take the rifle from my shikarry, who was standing behind me, so I threw down my empty gun, and bolted, as fast as I could, over the stones. Like "Sahela Selassie, King of Abyssinia," "I ran, and my men ran too." I verily believe that my legs were preternaturally lengthened for the occasion. My shikarry thundered on in front, his long legs flying over the stones in a most ludicrous fashion, and the bears followed, like two savage dogs, at my heels. Fortunately they did not come very far, and I pulled up, and got my rifle from my shikarry. Content with their victory, the cubs moved up the hill; I got a snap shot, through the bushes, but did not hit; so I went back, picked up and loaded my gun, and found the old bear lying dead on her back; she was a very old bear, exceedingly thin and mangy.

After this scrimmage, I went to the cave of yesterday's wounded bear, and saw that it had managed to get out in the night. The two young bears had got into this cave; we heard them whining, but could not get them out; they were proof against rockets and everything else. While I was sitting here, Pyreney went up to look at another den, and presently shouted that a bear was coming out. The beast was coming right for me, though not, as yet, visible to me, when the villagers, who were sitting near me, jumped up, and the bear immediately turned off. From our position, it was impossible to follow his course; but I sent the natives over the top of the hill, and they came back with news that they had marked two bears down into a cave; that they imagined one of them to be that which had just gone round the hill, the other they thought to be the wounded animal of yesterday, as it seemed to crawl rather than walk. I went up to the place and saw a large den under a perfect chaos of rocks, and we tried

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hard to get the bears out, but without avail. Blank shots, stones, rockets, all were tried, and all to no purpose; so I had to abandon the assault, and return to my tent. Thus ended my "Week with Bruin"; four bears had been bagged and one wounded, out of eleven seen. Nearly a month's march, over a country barren to a sportsman's eye, lay before me, at the end of which I anticipated, with delight, eight or ten days of elephant-shooting in a jungle with which I am well acquainted, and in which I had enjoyed some good sport, and had experienced the pleasure of laying low more than one of the mighty pachyderms.

As intimated at the conclusion of the above article, I arrived in due time at the elephant jungles, and I sent an account of my doings there to the Review, though not for more than a year after their occurrence (during which time I had been to England and back); but before I transcribe this article, which I entitled "A Week with the Pachyderms," I will relate a few anecdotes anent bear-shooting, which serve to prove that I have not over-estimated the danger which attends the pursuit of the Ursine family in India.

The "sloth bear" is the species which is the theme of the "Week with Bruin," though why a personage of its active habits, and its alacrity in attack and defence, should be so named, I cannot understand.

He

The first instance I knew of its ferocity was the case of a young officer who was, in 1843, brought into Chicacole, in a blanket tied on to a bamboo. was grievously wounded, and came straight to our mess-house; and I need hardly say that we took every care of him. He had been after bears, at a high hill about twenty miles from Chicacole, and, while poking about the rocks, a bear slipped out of a cave behind him, upset him in a trice, and "chawed It was neces"his hands in a frightful manner.

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sary to amputate two of the fingers (middle fingers) of his left hand; the bones, also, between those fingers and the wrist, had to be partly excised; the right hand was badly bitten, but no bones in it were broken. He had used his hands to save his face.

Poor fellow! some years afterwards he and his young wife (they had been married but a few weeks) were drowned off the western coast of India. They had embarked on a coasting voyage in a "pattimar," and a violent storm came on, and wrecked the crazy craft.

About the same time, an officer was terribly mauled at Cuttack. He, too, was out shooting, and was attacked in much the same way; he was so torn, that his recovery was almost a miracle, and the only thing which saved him was that, for years past, he had been a "teetotaller," and thus his wounds healed without the severe inflammation which would have set up in a less temperate man.

The bears of the Himalayan range are apparently less fierce than those of the plains of India. The so-called "red bear," or "snow bear," which is really the colour of a dirty blanket, is known to be a generally quiet and inoffensive creature. It, as also the "sloth bear," is sometimes paraded, as a show, about the bazaars of India, and is taught, after the manner of such exhibitions, to dance in its clumsy fashion, and to engage in mock wrestle with its keepers.

The Himalayan black bear is more savage, and sometimes shows fight gallantly. In 1883, an Indian newspaper gave an account of a most disastrous affair which took place at Dhurumsala.

While one of a shikar party, a Mr. Knowles, was

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watching a hill-side, a black bear came upon him from behind, and before he could turn round to defend himself, seized him, and threw itself, with him in its grasp, down the hill, a sheer fall of about forty feet. On reaching the ground, it rolled over several times, and then disappeared in the bushes. Mr. Knowles was picked up dead; his scull was smashed in.

In the meantime, a second bear attacked another of the party, and, notwithstanding that it received two bullets from his rifle, and a severe gash from a "kookree (a heavy, sword-like knife used by the Ghoorkas), it knocked him down, and rolled upon him; but this sportsman fortunately stopped before the bear did, and escaped with some severe bruises; the same bear then fell upon a Ghoorka jemadar, and threw him over the hill-side into a mountain stream. The jemadar was badly hurt by the fall, and his thigh was severely bitten by the enraged animal.