I knew a grizzly once that wasn't much bigger'n a dog, an' he was a game-killer.

Hundreds of animals are winter-killed in these mount'ins every year, an' when spring comes the bears eat the carcasses; but old flesh don't make game-killers.
Sometimes it's born in a grizzly to be a killer, an' sometimes he becomes a killer by chance.

If he kills once, he'll kill again.
"Once I was on the side of a mount'in an' saw a goat walk straight into the face of a grizzly.

The bear wasn't going to make a move, but the goat was so scared it ran plump into the old fellow, and he killed it.

He acted mighty surprised for ten minutes afterward, an' he sniffed an' nosed around the warm carcass for half an hour before he tore it open.