Issue link: https://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/401545
S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S 5 4 now that he is, that means there's a guy with him who wants a bear more than anything in the world. If you wouldn't mind holding off, he can take this one." I didn't mind and told him so by way of quaint expression. The other hunters showed up, down came the bear, and we climbed out of that hole together. T he sun was just peeking over the horizon when the dogs told us they smelled something good. Pressed into the dust once again was the bear's huge track. Hoping this third time would be charming, we collared the dogs and pointed them in the right direction. Eventually we heard them treeing far below. As before, when I slid under the tree I didn't have to look up to know. The grin spreading across the houndsman's face was an easy read. Working my way to where I could see clearly through the pine boughs, I found myself stunned by the bear's enormous size. He was perched on a big limb with his massive front legs wrapped around tree and with his head and neck, which seemed almost ridiculously small in proportion to his huge body, curled around the back side of the trunk. We corded up the hounds, found a shooting lane and after taking plenty of time, I fired two shots. On the houndsman's direction, a third came after the bear had crashed to the ground. "That's some bear," he kept repeating. "My God, what a bear." We wrestled the monster out of a hole and stretched him along the top for pictures. My camera managed one, then died forever. It's a lousy picture, with me backed up from the bear because of the hole, but it will have to do. The bear tied the handgun world record and held that position for quite a few years. It's since moved down a couple of notches, and I'm fine about that. My story isn't likely to be beat.