so we passed the time
in excursions after ptarmigans and mallards. We also secured here
another native, a strong, willing worker, who knew the coast.

The weather cleared suddenly, the wind shifting from northeast to
northwest, and enabled us to make a run to our first good hunting ground
in Windy Bay, a large piece of water five miles long by three wide, and
surrounded by rock mountains covered with snow, the only bare ground to
be seen at this time being on the low foothills, and in the sunny
ravines. We made ourselves at home at the only good anchorage in a small
cove with high crags on two sides and a ravine running off toward the
east.

The following morning--April 28--opened bright and calm, and we were
soon viewing the snow slopes with our glasses. Ivan, the new man, was
the first to call our attention to a streak on a distant mountain side,
and although perhaps 2-1/2 miles away, we could make out, even with the
naked eye, a deep furrow in the snow running down diagonally into the
valley below, undoubtedly a bear road. I took a five-cent piece from my
pocket, tossed for choice of shot, and lost to Merriam.

Once on land, we found the going very bad, and often wallowed in the
snow mid-thigh deep. Then was the time for snowshoes, which we had been
told were unnecessary. Floundering along in this soft snow began to tell
a little on the keenness of the party, when Vacille and Ivan, who were
off on one side, suddenly waved, and hunting on to them we were shown
the bear far up the valley in some bushes. As he lay on his side in the
snow he looked much like a cord of wood, and very large. The wind came
quartering down the valley, and made a stalk difficult, so it was
thought best to wait, as the bear would probably come down nearer the
water in the evening. We watched nearly four hours, and during that time
the bear made perhaps 150 yards in all, crawling, rolling over, lapping
his paws, occasionally trying a somersault, and finally landing in a
patch of alders.

As night was upon us, we decided to chance the situation, and approached
along a ridge on one side of the valley until almost above the bear. At
this point Tchort, the dog, caught the scent, broke away, and raced down
over the bluff out of sight. Almost immediately the bear appeared in
the open 200 yards away, legging as fast as he could in the snow, and
headed for the hillside. Merriam made a good shot behind the shoulder
with his fifty. The bear fell, ca