One minute they remained thus; the puma, its sides heaving with exertion, agitated, and apparently undecided; the bear, perfectly calm and motionless.  Gradually the puma crawled backwards, till at a right distance for a spring, when, throwing all its weight upon its hind parts, to increase its power, it darted upon the bear like lightning, and fixed its claws into her back.  The bear, with irresistible force, seized the puma with her two fore-paws, pressing it with all the weight of her body and rolling over it.  We heard a heavy grunt, a plaintive howl, a crashing of bones, and the puma was dead.  The cub of the bear came to ascertain what was going on, and after a few minutes’ examination of the victim, it strutted down the slope of the hill, followed by its mother, which was apparently unhurt.  We did not attempt to prevent their retreat, for among real hunters in the wilds, there is a feeling which restrains them from attacking an animal which has just undergone a deadly strife.  This is a very common practice of the deer, when chased by a puma—­that of leading him to the haunt of a bear; I have oftened witnessed it, although I never before knew the deer to turn, as it did in this instance.

This incident reminds me of another, which was witnessed by Gabriel, a short time before the murder of the Prince Seravalle.  Gabriel had left his companions, to look after game, and he soon came upon the track of a wild boar, which led to a grove of tall persimon trees; then, for the first time, he perceived that he had left his pouch and powder-horn in the camp; but he cared little about it, as he knew that his aim was certain.  When within sixty yards of the grove, he spied the boar at the foot of one of the outside trees:  the animal was eating the fruit which had fallen.  Gabriel raised his eyes to the thick-leaved branches of the tree, and perceived that there was a large black bear in the tree, also regaling himself with the fruit.  Gabriel approached to within thirty yards, and was quite absorbed with the novelty of the sight.

At every motion of Bruin, hundreds of persimons would fall down, and these, of course were the ripest.  This the bear knew very well, and it was with no small jealousy that he witnessed the boar below making so luxurious a meal at his expense, while he could only pick the green fruit, and that with difficulty, as he dared not trust his body too far upon the smaller limbs of the tree.  Now and then he would growl fiercely, and put his head down, and the boar would look at him with a pleased and grateful motion of the head, answering the growl by a grunt, just as to say, “Thank you; very polite to eat the green ones and send me the others.”  This Bruin understood, and he could bear it no longer; he began to shake the tree violently, till the red persimons fell like a shower around the boar; then there was a duet of growls and grunts—­angry and terrific from the bear above, denoting satisfaction and pleasure on the part of the boar below.