only on the carcasses of the grisly's
victims, but on the carcass of the grisly himself after he has been
slain and left by the hunter. Of course wolves would only attack a
grisly if in the most desperate straits for food, as even a victory
over such an antagonist must be purchased with heavy loss of life; and a
hungry grisly would devour either a wolf or a cougar, or any one of the
smaller carnivora off-hand if it happened to corner it where it could
not get away.

The grisly occasionally makes its den in a cave and spends therein the
midday hours. But this is rare. Usually it lies in the dense shelter
of the most tangled piece of woods in the neighborhood, choosing by
preference some bit where the young growth is thick and the ground
strewn with boulders and fallen logs. Often, especially if in a restless
mood and roaming much over the country, it merely makes a temporary
bed, in which it lies but once or twice; and again it may make a more
permanent lair or series of lairs, spending many consecutive nights in
each. Usually the lair or bed is made some distance from the feeding
ground; but bold bears, in very wild localities, may lie close by a
carcass, or in the middle of a berry ground. The deer-killing bear above
mentioned had evidently dragged two or three of his victims to his
den, which was under an impenetrable mat of bull-berries and dwarf
box-alders, hemmed by a cut bank on one side and a wall of gnarled
cottonwoods on the other. Round this den, and rendering it noisome, were
scattered the bones of several deer and a young steer or heifer. When
we found it we thought we could easily kill the bear, but the fierce,
cunning beast must have seen or smelt us, for though we laid in wait for
it long and patiently, it did not come back to its place; nor, on our
subsequent visits, did we ever find traces of its having done so.

Bear are fond of wallowing in the water, whether in the sand, on the
edge of a rapid plains river, on the muddy margin of a pond, or in the
oozy moss of a clear, cold mountain spring. One hot August afternoon,
as I was clambering down a steep mountain-side near Pend'Oreille lake,
I heard a crash some distance below, which showed that a large beast was
afoot. On making my way towards the spot, I found I had disturbed a big
bear as it was lolling at ease in its bath; the discolored water showed
where it had scrambled hastily out and galloped off as I approached. The
spring welled out at the base