A FAT LITTLE EDITOR. 73

thin and very hungry, with cubs at her
heels, and she wanted that fat little city
editor’s fish, I know it would take
volumes to convince you that I really
meant for the bear to pass by him and
come after me and my friend with both
fish and bacon, and so, with half a line, I
assert this truth and pass on. Nor was I
in any peril in appropriating the little
brown bear to myself. Any man who
knows what he is about is as safe with a
bear on a steep hillside as is the best bull-
fighter in any arena. No bear can keep his
footing on a steep hillside, much less fight.
And whenever an Indian is in peril he al-
ways takes down hill till he comes to a
steep plane, and then lets the bear almost
overtake him, when he suddenly steps aside
and either knifes the bear to the heart or
lets the open-mouthed beast go on down
_the hill, heels over head.

The fat editor turned his face toward
me, and it was pale. “What! Lie down
and be eaten up while you lie there and