. However,
as I insisted in all soberness, and offered to lead them to the bear, a
party of forty or fifty people at last started off with me to bring the
bear in. Nobody believed there was any bear in the case; but everybody
who could get a gun carried one; and we went into the woods armed with
guns, pistols, pitchforks, and sticks, against all contingencies or
surprises,--a crowd made up mostly of scoffers and jeerers.

But when I led the way to the fatal spot, and pointed out the bear,
lying peacefully wrapped in his own skin, something like terror seized
the boarders, and genuine excitement the natives. It was a no-mistake
bear, by George! and the hero of the fight well, I will not insist upon
that. But what a procession that was, carrying the bear home! and what
a congregation, was speedily gathered in the valley to see the bear! Our
best preacher up there never drew anything like it on Sunday.

And I must say that my particular friends, who were sportsmen, behaved
very well, on the whole. They didn't deny that it was a bear, although
they said it was small for a bear. Mr... Deane, who is equally good with
a rifle and a rod, admitted that it was a very fair shot. He is probably
the best salmon fisher in the United States, and he is an equally good
hunter. I suppose there is no person in America who is more desirous to
kill a moose than he. But he needlessly remarked, after he had examined
the wound in the bear, that he had seen that kind of a shot made by a
cow's horn.

This sort of talk affected me not. When I went to sleep that night, my
last delicious thought was, "I've killed a bear!"

II. LOST IN THE WOODS

It ought to be said, by way of explanation, that my being lost in the
woods was not premeditated. Nothing could have been more informal.
This apology can be necessary only to those who are familiar with the
Adirondack literature. Any person not familiar with it would see the
absurdity of one going to the Northern Wilderness with the deliberate
purpose of writing about himself as a lost man. It may be true that a
book about this wild tract would not be recognized as complete without
a lost-man story in it, since it is almost as easy for a stranger to
get lost in the Adirondacks as in Boston. I merely desire to say that my
unimportant adventure is not narrated in answer to the popular demand,
and I do not wish to be held responsible for its variation from the
typical character of such experiences.