An old hunter who a dozen years ago wintered at Jackson Lake, in northwestern Wyoming, told me that when the snows got deep on the mountains the moose came down and took up their abode near the lake, on its western side.

Nothing molested them during the winter.

Early in the spring a grisly came out of its den, and he found its tracks in many places, as it roamed restlessly about, evidently very hungry.

Finding little to eat in the bleak, snow-drifted woods, it soon began to depredate on the moose, and killed two or three, generally by lying in wait and dashing out on them as they passed near its lurking-place.

Even the bulls were at that season weak, and of course hornless, with small desire to fight; and in each case the rush of the great bear--doubtless made with the ferocity and speed which so often belie the seeming awkwardness of the animal--bore down the startled victim, taken utterly unawares before it had a chance to defend itself.