THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 267 



Where a small rock-strewn brook crosses the 

 trail a stop is made for a drink of the pure, cold 

 water and ray eye is attracted by a peculiar 

 track in the wet earth for all the world like that 

 of a barefoot boy of ten. For a moment, for- 

 getful of my surroundings, I picture a lad with 

 dinner pail and well-thumbed books trudging 

 along to school, and in imagination I hear the 

 busy murmur of the classroom; then suddenly 

 the realization comes to me that this is the wil- 

 derness, and the tracks before me are not those 

 of a boy at all, but of a good-sized bear, very 

 fresh and headed in the direction I am going. 

 With senses fully alert the advance is cau- 

 tiously made in the hope of catching a sight 

 of him while searching for his morning mxeal, 

 unless, perchance, he has already scented me, 

 and silently vanished in the undergrowth. 



The bear is the shyest of all the wild folk, and 

 silent as a shadow must be he who approaches 

 one without giving warning of his presence. 

 Some distance along the trail I find signs of his 

 work, a rotten log torn in pieces for the grubs 

 hidden in the sodden mass; and a little farther, 

 an old stump shattered and broken in his search 

 for ants, the w^ork displaying unmistakable 

 evidence of his great strength. Close by, the 

 tracks suddenly leave the trail and lead into a 

 dense thicket, it being apparent from the in- 

 creased distance between them that he was in a 

 hurry, probably alarmed at my approach. 



Well knowing the futility of following him, 

 the journey is continued and soon through the 

 trees I catch a glimpse of the lake, its blue sur- 



