We rode about four miles without seeing a living creature, except a badger. This animal squatted upon seeing the horses, and lay close to the ground like a hare in form, until we actually halted within 10 feet of its position. Bob immediately suggested that we should kill it, and secure its skin (his one idea appeared to be a longing to divest everything of its hide); but I would not halt, as the day was to be devoted to bears. We at length arrived at a portion of the forest where the young spruce had grown up from a space that had formerly been burnt; about 50 acres were densely covered with bright green foliage, forming a pleasing contrast to the sombre hue of the older forest. This was considered by my guide to be a likely retreat for bears; it was as thick as possible for trees to grow. We accordingly dismounted, threw the reins over our horses' heads, and, taking the right direction of the wind, we entered the main forest, which was connected with the younger growth. It was easy to distinguish tracks, as the earth was covered with old half-rotten pine needles, which formed a soft surface, that would receive a deep impression. Nearly all the old trees were more or less barked by the horns of wapiti, showing that immense numbers must visit these woods at the season when the horns are nearly hard, and require rubbing, to clean them from the velvet. We had not strolled more than half a mile through the dark wood when Bob suddenly halted, and, like Robinson Crusoe, he appeared startled by the signs of a footstep deeply imprinted in the soil. It was uncommonly like a large and peculiarly broad human foot, but there was no doubt it was a most recent track of a bear, and the direction taken would lead towards the dense young spruce that we had already seen. We followed the track, until we at length arrived at the bright green thicket, in which we felt sure the bear must be lying down. This was an exceedingly awkward place, and Bob assured me that if he were alone, he should decline to enter such a forest, as it was impossible to see a yard ahead, and a bear might spring upon you before you knew that it was near. As I had a double-barrelled powerful rifle, I of course went first, followed by Bob close behind. As noiselessly as possible, we pushed through the elastic branches, and very slowly followed the track, which was now more difficult to distinguish, owing to the close proximity of the young trees that overshadowed the surface of the ground. In this manner we had advanced about a quarter of a mile, when a sudden rush was made exactly in my front, the young trees were roughly shaken, and I jumped forward immediately, to meet or to follow the animal, before I could determine what it really was. Something between a short roar and a grunt proclaimed it to be a bear, and I pushed on as fast as I could through the opposing branches; I could neither see nor hear anything.