. Diary of the Washburn Expedition to the Yellowstone and Firehole Rivers in the year 1870. at was best to do with the cubs. Thelocation was a mountain side, thickly timbered with tall straightpines having no limbs within thirty feet of the ground. It wasdecided to advance more cautiously to avoid frightening the animal,and every tree which there was any chance of climbing was watchedwith religious care, in order to intercept her should she attempt totake refuge in its branches. An hour was passed in vain searchfor the sneaking beast, which had evidently taken to flight. Thenthis formidable wa
. Diary of the Washburn Expedition to the Yellowstone and Firehole Rivers in the year 1870. at was best to do with the cubs. Thelocation was a mountain side, thickly timbered with tall straightpines having no limbs within thirty feet of the ground. It wasdecided to advance more cautiously to avoid frightening the animal,and every tree which there was any chance of climbing was watchedwith religious care, in order to intercept her should she attempt totake refuge in its branches. An hour was passed in vain searchfor the sneaking beast, which had evidently taken to flight. Thenthis formidable war party returned to camp, having a big disgustat the cowardly conduct of the bear, but, as the darkie said, nothaving it bad. Just before getting in sight of camp, the six invinci-bles discharged their firearms simultaneously, in order to showthose remaining behind just how they would have slaughtered thebear, but more particularly just how they did not. This was calledthe Bear Camp. Mr. Trumbull was one of the party of hunters whose efforts tocapture the bear he so well describes. ^r*^. ^^tu^ 0^iz.,&^^ Washburn Yellowstone Expedition of 1870. G9 sides of the horses, required constant patience and untiringtoil, and the struggle between our own docilit}- and the obsta-cles in our way, not unfrequently resulted in fits of sullen-ness or explosions of wrath which bore no slight resem-blance to the volcanic forces of the country itself. On one of these occasions when we were in a vast net ofdown timber and brush, and each man was insisting uponhis own particular mode of extrication, and when our tem-pers had been sorely tried and we were in the most unsocialof humors, speaking only in half angry expletives, I re-called that beautiful line in Byrons ^Childe Harold,^There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, which I re-cited with all the ore rotundo I could command, whichstruck the ludicrous vein of the company and produced aninstantaneous response of uproarious laughter, which, sosu
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