Bob Stewart wore moccasins, and being exceedingly light and active, he ran up each sloping treestem for 40 or 50 feet, then dropped nimbly to another fallen trunk below, bobbed under a mass of heavy timber, like masts in a shipbuilder's yard, supported as they had chanced to fall, and then dived underneath all sorts of obstructions. He was followed admiringly, but slowly, by myself, not provided with moccasins, but in high riding boots. If I had been a squirrel, I might perhaps have beaten Bob, but after several hundred yards of this horrible entanglement, which might have been peopled by all the bears in Wyoming, we arrived at a small grassy swamp in the bottom of a hollow, just beneath a great mass of perpendicular rock, about 70 or 80 feet in height. In the centre of this hollow was a pool of water, about 8 feet by 6. This had been disturbed so recently by some large animal, that the mud was still curling in dusky rings, showing that the bath had only just been vacated. We halted, and examined this attentively. The edges of the little pool were wet with the drip from the bear's shaggy coat, as it had left the water. Bob whispered to me, "Look sharp, there are bears here, more than one I think, and if they've heard us, they'll be somewhere alongside this rock I reckon, or maybe up above." We crept along, and beneath the fallen timber; but it was so dark, owing to the great number of young spruce which had pushed their way upwards, that a dozen bear might have moved without our seeing one. We now arrived at a small open space, about 20 feet square; this was a delightful change from the darkness and obstructions: The ground in this spot was a deep mass of pine needles, and in this soft material there were three or four round depressions, quite smooth, and about 18 inches deep; these were the beds of bears, where in undisturbed solitude they were in the habit of sleeping after their nocturnal rambles. I was of opinion that we had disturbed our game, as several times we had accidentally broken a dead branch, with a loud report, when clambering through the abominable route. However, we crept forward round the base of the rock, and arrived in the darkest and thickest place that we had hitherto experienced. At this moment we heard a sharp report, as a dead branch snapped immediately in our front. For an instant I saw a large black shadow apparently walking along the trunk of a fallen pine. I could not see the sight of my rifle in the deep gloom, but I fired, and was answered by a short growl and a momentary crash among the branches. We ran forward with difficulty, but no bear was to be seen. We searched everywhere, but in vain. I came to the conclusion that the game was hardly worth the candle. Through several hours we worked hard, but did not find another bear; and it was past five o'clock when we arrived at our camp, after a long day's work, in which we had certainly "jumped" two bears, but had not succeeded in bagging one.