It is curious to note that often when game is being stalked it becomes suspicious, although it cannot smell, hear, or see the stalker; instinct, perhaps—­call it what you will.  And now this bear turned and began moving slowly toward cover.  For some time he was hidden from view, and then, just before he would finally vanish from sight, he paused a moment, offering a quartering shot.  The lower half of his body was concealed by the grass, but it was my last chance, and I took it, aiming for the lungs and rather high in order to get a clear shot.  I saw as he bit for the wound that the bullet was well placed, and as he turned and lumbered across our front, I fired two more deliberate shots, one going through the fore leg and one breaking a hind leg.

Nikolai also fired, giving the bear a slight skin wound, and hitting the hind leg just above where one of my bullets had previously struck.  As the bear entered the brush we both ran up, my hunter going to the left while I went a little below to head the bear off.  We soon came upon him, and Nikolai, getting the first sight, gave him another bullet through the lungs with my heavy rifle, and in a few moments he rolled over dead.

It was my thought always to keep a wounded bear from getting into the brush, as the blood trail would have ruined future shooting.

I think it important to point out that when my bullet struck this bear he bit for the wound.  As he did so he was turned from his original direction, which would have carried him in one bound out of sight among the trees, and instead turned and galloped across our front, thereby giving me an opportunity to fire two more shots.  It frequently happened that bears were turned from their original direction to the sides upon which they received the first bullet, and we always gave this matter careful consideration when making an approach.

My Aleuts were not permitted to shoot unless we were following up a wounded bear in the thick brush; but I found it most difficult to keep them to this rule.  The large hole of the bullet from my .50-caliber which Nikolai carried made it easy to distinguish his hits, and if a bear had received the mortal wound from his rifle, I should not have kept the skin.

The pelt of this bear which we had just killed was in excellent condition, and although he was not fat, he was of fair size, measuring 6 feet 3-1/8 inches along the vertebrae.

Great care was taken as usual to pick up the empty cartridge shells, and we pulled up the bloody bits of grass, throwing them into a brook, into which we put also the bear’s carcass.

The storm continued for several days, and was accompanied by an unfavorable wind, which drew up into all our shooting grounds.  We kept quietly in camp, which was so situated that although we were just opposite the great marsh, our scent was carried safely away.  Then we were most careful to have only small fires for our cooking, and we were extremely particular to select dry wood, so that there would be as little smoke as possible.