"We watched two nights without success, passing a portion of our time in the day, when not sleeping, in fishing, cooking, and cutting grass for the heifer. About the middle of the third night, I was perched in my tree--the Emeralder had just retired to rest--when I heard a rustling of the bushes on the hill-side above me, and a low growl, which was unmistakably a signal of Bruin's approach. My companion heard it as well, and put his head out of the cave. I motioned him to remain quiet. Soon the bear came slowly down into the ravine below me, and walked into the water-course to drink. When he emerged from the shelter of the bush into the bright moonlight, I was astonished at his size; he seemed like an elephant cut off at the knees. He took a drink, snuffing the water and the air around him, as if his instinct told him all was not right. I was fearful that he would go down the stream towards the Mexican's cattle-yard, and thus we should lose him. "The proximity of the bear alarmed the yearling; as if from instinct, she gave a low bellow of terror. Bruin caught the sound, and started off in a trot in the direction of the trap. He passed directly under my perch, stopping for a moment as if he scented me, which he no doubt did; and if I was not frightened, I certainly felt better when he moved on. I watched him until he reached the cage, around which he walked to reconnoitre. His love of veal soon overcame whatever scruples he might have had as to the nature of the structure, and my heart went pit-a-pat as I saw him stoop and crawl under the raised side. "I waited until I heard the doomed calf's bellow of pain; then I gave the cord a strong pull. With a crash, the machine came down; and the bear gave such a roar as I never heard before, or care to hear again. He made good his Indian title of `Mountain Thunder.' "The terrible sound rolled down through the ravine, and was echoed from hill to hill like the reports from a battery of artillery. Wolves, panthers, and hundreds of birds answered the sound with screams of terror in every direction. In a trice my mate and myself were on the spot, shouting with delight at our good fortune. We drove some large stakes, which we had previously prepared, into the earth, and lashed our cage firmly to them. "Meanwhile, the bear was rushing about the trap, tearing and crushing the poor yearling to atoms, biting and breaking the timber which had formed the `figure four,' as if he knew it was the author of his woes. We made a fire, and watched by him until morning. By this time he had found all his efforts to escape futile, and he stood in a corner of the cage with his nose to the ground in sullen silence.