I am at liberty to narrate only my own acts and mistakes. I cannot omit from these sketches the first grizzly killed by me. Myself and companion were camping on Dead Indian Prairie, when we were informed that there were some fresh elk-tracks near a large wet prairie some three miles from our camp. We started out to hunt for these elks. We went up a narrow prairie through which flowed a small brook to a larger prairie through which this brook also flowed. The brook was fringed on each side with a thick growth of willows from three to five rods in width. We hitched our horses near the larger prairie, and my companion was to go carefully through the timber on the right hand, while I was to cross the brook and carefully scout the timber on the left hand. Shortly after I had crossed the brook and got a good view of the prairie beyond, I saw a large grizzly feeding near the outer line of the willows. He was some sixty or seventy rods away. I considered for a moment, my plan of action. I had left my pistol at the camp and had only my rifle and hunting-knife. I kept in the timber out of sight until I got opposite to him and probably about forty rods away. Grass on the prairie was tall, and I concluded that as I only had one shot, I would get closer to him; so I crawled through the grass towards him until I was possibly twenty rods away. He commenced to act as though all was not right, and he stood listening, reared upon his haunches, and snuffing the air. I began to get a little nervous. I desired to get a shot at or near the butt of his ear. While he was listening, however, he kept turning his head from me and towards the willows. I concluded that I could strike his heart, and quickly brought my rifle in position, and fired. He fell to the ground; I arose to my feet and commenced to reload. My rifle was muzzle-tight, and I had to carry in my pouch a bullet-starter. Having got the powder in the gun and started the ball, just as I pulled the ramrod he arose to his feet. As I was in plain view, he started directly for me. Casting my eye around, I saw a hemlock tree, with pendent limbs, some thirty or more rods away. I started for it with all the speed I possessed. As he was running on a kind of circle hypothenuse, I could see that he was rapidly closing the space between us. He was probably fifteen or twenty feet from me when I dropped my rifle and leaped for the branches of the tree. My aspirations were lofty just then. Had he come on, he might possibly have gotten me, but I was soon out of his reach. He stopped to grasp my rifle and shook it violently. It was a half-stocked rifle, and he bit off a portion of the stock. He stayed around the tree some three or four minutes licking his wound, which I subsequently found was less than half an inch too high. It was a mortal shot, but did not produce immediate death. He suddenly leaped to his feet and dashed off to a thicket of chapparal some twelve or thirteen rods away. I descended from