ght
hundred weight, but sometimes they weigh above a thousand pounds.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

The next morning, we all three started, and by noon we had crossed the
Washita River. It is the most beautiful stream I know of, being cool
and transparent, averaging a depth of eight or ten feet, and running
upon a hard sandy bottom. While we were crossing, Boone told us that as
soon as we arrived at the summit of the woody hills before us, if we
looked sharp, we should see some bears, for he had never passed that way
without shooting one or two.

We forded the stream, and entered into a noble forest of maple trees,
the ground now rising in gentle swells for several miles, when the
fir-pines, succeeding to the maple, told us that we had reached the
highest point of the hills. Hearing some trampling and rustling at a
distance, I spurred my horse to take the lead and have the first chance
of a shot, when I perceived to my left, not twenty yards from me and in
a small patch of briars, a large she-bear playing with her cub. I was
just raising my rifle to fire, when Boone's voice called me back, and I
perceived that he and Finn had just dismounted and entered a thicket.
Knowing that they must have an object in view, I joined them, and asked
them what was the matter.

"Rare sport," answered Finn, extending his hand towards a precipitous
and rocky part of the mountain.

It was sport, and of a very singular description.

A large deer was running at full speed, closely pursued by a puma. The
chase had already been a long one, for as they came nearer and nearer, I
could perceive both their long parched tongues hanging out of their
mouths, and their bounding, though powerful, was no longer so elastic as
usual. The deer, having now arrived within two hundred yards of the
bear, stopped a moment to sniff the air; then coming still nearer, he
made a bound, with his head extended, to ascertain if Bruin was still
near him. As the puma was closing with him, the deer wheeled sharp
round, and turning back almost upon his own trail, passed within thirty
yards of his pursuer, who, not being able at once to stop his career,
gave an angry growl and followed the deer again, but at a distance of
some hundred yards; hearing the growl, Bruin drew his body half out of
the briars, remaining quietly on the lookout.

"Gone," I exclaimed.

"Wait a bit," answered Boone; "here he comes again."

He was right; the deer again appeared, coming