io6 The Black Bear 



five o^clock and close the Zoo gates for the night, the 

 bears must yawn, stretch their cramped muscles, shake 

 themselves with that lumbering, disjointed violence of 

 theirs, and exclaim in bear language, ^* Thank heaven, 

 thafs over until to-morrow!" 



For the rest most of our information about them 

 comes from self-appointed vigilantes who, rifle in 

 hand, knock unexpectedly at the doors of their summer 

 residences and do not even offer them the customary 

 five minutes in which to say their prayers. In their 

 reports, as in accounts of other executions, the chief 

 emphasis is laid upon the attitude of the victim in the 

 face of death. '^The condemned mounted the steps 

 of the scaffold with a firm tread." Or, if the animal 

 happened to be gnawing a bone when discovered, ^'At 

 the conclusion of a hearty breakfast consisting of ham 

 and eggs and coffee, the sheriff came in and read the 

 death-warrant." Or, best of all, if the unhappy brute 

 ventured to show its teeth as the firing squad sighted 

 down the rifle barrel, we are informed that, ^'the 

 savage and bloodthirsty monster died game." 



This may be good journalism, but it is mighty poor 

 natural history. It gives us some insight into the 

 nature of the man behind the gun, but very little idea 

 of the real nature of the bear in front of it. We never 

 find out what the bear would have done if the trigger 

 had not been pulled. A man once stopped before a 

 plant in my garden and asked me what under the shin- 



