Cache American | 1936-02-14 | Page 6 | Little Drops of Water

Little Drops of Water ROBERT H. MOULTON, author and marketing authority, once lived among the ridge runners of Tennessee. He likes to recall the hazards of those early days when a man had to go out and get his meat before breakfast if he expected expect-ed to eat at all. "Once I was hunting squirrels in the Cumberland mountains," he recalls. "I was using pappy's old muzzle-loading rifle and was making mak-ing every shot count. Had a nice bag of squirrels and started home when I discovered all my bullets were gone. "At that unfortunate moment a huge bear appeared on the trail and began to chase me. So disturbed was I that .beads of perspiration rolled off my forehead. "Luckily for me, the weather turned cold very suddenly as I headed into the cove. The beads froze and by quick work I was able to catch one of them, ram It into the muzzle of my gun and fire it into the head of the bear. "It probably would not have been a fatal injury to the bear, but I had no more than fired when the weather turned suddenly warm again. The bear, I am happy to report, re-port, immediately died with water on the brain!'