ith tooth and claw, tore his flesh. At last, blinded
with blood and exhaustion, the knife fell from the trapper's hand, and
he became insensible. His companion, who thought his turn would come
next, did not even think of reloading his rifle, and fled to the camp,
where others of his party were resting, to tell the miserable fate of
their companion. Assistance was sent, and Glass still breathed, but the
bear lay across him quite dead, from three bullets and twenty knife
wounds; the man's flesh was torn away in slips, and lumps of it lay upon
the ground; his scalp hung bleeding over his face, which was also torn.
The men took away the trapper's hunting-shirt, moccasins, and arms,
dragged the bear off his body, and left him, declaring, when they
rejoined their party, that they had completed his burial."

Although the bear no longer figures in the story, I must be allowed to
relate the sequel, as a proof of what human nature can endure without
destruction. Months elapsed, and some of the party of the above
mentioned camp were on their way to a trading port with their skins,
when they saw a horseman approach them, with a face so scarred and
disfigured that they could not distinguish his features.

The stranger accosted that one of the party who had been Glass's
companion, exclaiming, in a hollow voice, "Hurrah, Bill, my boy, you
thought I was gone under (killed) that time, did you? but hand me over
my horse and gun, lad. I'm not dead yet." Astonishment and horror seized
on the party, many of whom believed he had been buried as well as dead.
However, there could be no mistake now, and when they had sufficiently
recovered from their surprise to listen to Glass's story, he told them
that he knew not how long he lay before he recovered his senses; but
when he did, and was able to take nourishment, he was obliged to subsist
on the flesh of the bear. When he had strength to crawl, he tore off as
much of this as he could carry in his weak state, and crept down to the
river; he had suffered tortures from cold, wounds, and hunger, but he
had reached the fort, which was between eighty and ninety miles distant,
living the greater part of the way on roots and berries, but there he
had been taken care of and recovered.

The brown bear much resembles the black in size, habits and shape, and
like it, lives in hollow places; he, however, sometimes digs pits for
himself, and even constructs huts, which he lines with moss. Both
attain an en