THE TRAPPER 137 



was in the dense brushwood tangle out beyond the 

 limit of the yards who brought the first hint of 

 spring. All the cold weather through a little jet 

 of steam arose from the conical shelter, save when 

 heavy drifts snowed the den under. Then, gradually, 

 very gradually, as the conditions overhead moder- 

 ated, the heat inside undermined the frozen roof, 

 and the tiny yellow hole at the apex emitted the 

 gentle vapour once more to float away in a faint 

 susurrus of snow-dust. 



How the bear knew it was nearly time to come 

 forth Moosewa could not guess, for the snow lay 

 deep everywhere, and icicles clung yet to the hang- 

 ing bell of the big moose, tinkling together musically 

 with every lurching step the great beast took. 



Rolling in fat in spite of her long fast, and very 

 groggy on her stiff legs, the bear broke through the 

 encrusting wall of snow and came out into the 

 open, followed haltingly by two extraordinary help- 

 less atoms, covered with soft, cinnamon-coloured 

 hair, and a thick dark underwool, which made them 

 appear much larger than they really were. 



Seeing the weather conditions, and the hopeless- 

 ness of protecting the defenceless young ones 

 against the myriad enemies — wolves, foxes, lynxes, 



18 



