OSITO.

By F. L. STEALEY.

N the lofty mountain that
faced the captain’s cabin,
the frost had already
made an insidious ap-
proach, and the slender
thickets of quaking ash
that marked the course
of each tiny torrent, now

stood out in resplendent
hues and shone iin off like gay ribbons running
through the dark-green pines. Gorgeously, too,
with scarlet, crimson and gold, gleamed the lower
spurs, where the oak-brush grew in dense masses
and bore beneath a blaze of color, a goodly har-
vest of acorns, now ripe and loosened in their
cups.

It was where one : of these spurs joined the pa-
rent mountain, where the oak-brush grew thickest
and, as a consequence, the acorns were most abun-
dant, that the captain, well-versed in woodcraft
mysteries, had built his bear trap. For two days
he had been engaged upon it and now, as the even-
ing drew on, he sat contemplating it with satisfac-
tion, as a work finished and perfected.

From his station there, on the breast of the lofty
mountain, the captain could scan many an acre of
sombre pine forest with pleasant little parks inter-
spersed, and here and there long slopes brown
with bunch grass. He was the lord of this wild
domain. And yet his sway there was not undis-
puted. Behind an intervening spur to the west-
ward ran an old Indian trail long travelled by the
Southern Utes in their migrations north for trad-
ing and hunting purposes. And even now, a light
smoke wafted upward on the evening air, told of a
band encamped on the trail on their homeward
journey to the Southwest.

The captain needed not this visual token of
their proximity. He had been aware of it for sev-
eral days. Their calls at his cabin in the lonely
little park below, had been frequent, and they had
been specially solicitous of his coffee, his sugar, his
biscuit and other delicacies, insomuch that once or

142

 

twice during his absence these ingenuous children
of Nature had, with primitive simplicity, entered his
cabin and helped themselves without leave or stint.

However, as he knew their stay would be short,
the captain bore these neighborly attentions with
mild forbearance. It was guests more graceless
than these who had roused his wrath.

From their secret haunts far back towards the
Snowy Range, the bears had come down to feast
upon the ripened acorns, and so doing, had scented
the captain’s bacon and sugar afar off and had
prowled by night about the cabin. Nay, more,
three days before, the captain, having gone hur-
riedly away and left the door loosely fastened, upon
his return had found all in confusion. Many of his
eatables had vanished, his flour sack was ripped
open and, unkindest cut of all, his beloved books
lay scattered about. At the first indignant glance,
the captain had cried out, “Utes again!”” But on
looking around he saw a tell-tale trail left °y floury
bear paws.

Hence this bear trap.

It was but a strong log pen floored with rough-
hewn slabs and fitted with a ponderous movable .
lid made of other slabs pinned on stout cross
pieces. But satisfied with his handiwork the cap-
tain now arose and prying up one end of the lid
with a lever, set the trigger and baited it with a
huge piece of bacon. He then piled a great quan-
tity of rock upon the already heavy lid to further
guard against the escape of any bear so unfor-
tunate as to enter, and shouldering his axe and rifle
walked homewards. :

Whatever vengeful visions of captive bears he was
indulging in, were, however, wholly dispelled as he
drew near the cabin. Before the door stood the
Ute chief accompanied by two squaws. “How!”
said the chieftain, with a conciliating smile, laying
one hand on his breast of bronze and extending the
other as the captain approached.

“How!” returned the captain bluffly, disdaining
the hand with a recollection of sundry petty thefts.

“Has the great captain seen a pappoose about