I started for Logan, 20 miles downhill. I went about 20 yards and turned, "Eph" was coming, still standing up,
but my dog, Jennie, was snapping at his heels, so he turned on the dog.
I then turned back, and as I got close, he turned again on me, wading
along on his hind legs. I could see that he was badly hurt, as at each
breath the blood would spurt from his nostrils, so I gave him the last
bullet in the brain. I think I felt sorry I had to do it.
The horses had all been scared away and I was alone; but, I wanted to see someone badly. I finally found a horse down in
a wash where the others had knocked it in their flight. I rode three miles to the other camp of another herder and had a rest before returning to "Eph".
We buried "Eph" after skinning him. Boy Scout Troop No. 43 dug him up and sent his head to the Smithsonian Institute. I have a part of the hide, but souvenir hunters got everything else.
I wiII now give you a few facts: "Eph" bit a 6-inch , aspen log off in one bite, that was 9 feet, 11 inches above the ground. He also bit a 13-foot log, 12 inches in diameter, into eleven lengths, as if they had been chopped.