The old trapper was chased by a grizzly. When he had thrown away

everything he carried, and found, nevertheless, that the bear was

gaining rapidly, he determined to make a stand. As he came into a small

clearing, he faced about with his back to a stump, and got out and

opened his clasp-knife. The bear halted a rod away, and sat on its

haunches, surveying its victim gloatingly. The trapper, though not

usually given to p
aying, now improved the interval to offer a petition.

"O God," he said aloud, with his eyes on the bear, "if you're on my

side, let my knife git 'im quick in 'is vitals, an' if you're on 'is

side, let 'im finish me fust off. But, O God, if you're nootral, you

jist sit thar on that stump, an' you'll see the darndest bear fight you

ever hearn tell on!"

* * *

The guide introduced a tourist in the Rocky Mountains to an old hunter

who was reputed to have slain some hundreds of bears.

"This feller," the guide explained to the hunter, "would like to hear

about some of the narrer escapes you've had from bears."

The old mountaineer regarded the tourist with a disapproving stare.

"Young man," he said, "if there's been any narrer escapes, the bears had