122 The Black Bear 



walked back again to the butt. Here he stood and 

 looked straight ahead of him — stood at gaze, as the old 

 romancers used to say. Then (the log was perhaps 

 eighteen inches high) he climbed down backward very 

 slowly and carefully as if he were afraid of falling, and 

 walked around to examine a place where the upturned 

 roots had left a hole in the earth. Finally he sat down 

 and began ''weaving.'' That is to say, he began swing- 

 ing his head from side to side, making a figure oo with 

 his nose, as one often sees them do behind the bars of 

 the Zoo. There is nothing in the world more expres- 

 sive of hopeless ennui. 



But although one is constantly tempted to call the 

 Black Bear names; to refer to him as an idle, potter- 

 ing, purposeless, ''footless," lazy, loafing tramp; he 

 can upon occasion be the most persistent thing on 

 four feet (always excepting a porcupine), and the fact 

 that he has no business of his own to attend to by no 

 means deters him from poking his sharp nose into any 

 and everj^thing that doesn't concern him. There 

 never was a more convincing example of the fact that 

 idle hands (and paws) are supplied by Satan with 

 mischievous occupation. He is chock-full of inquis- 

 itiveness and eaten up with curiosity. And if you 

 imagine that because he's clumsy he can't be quick, or 

 that because he acts foolish he is anybody's fool, you 

 will be very far out of the right reckoning. 



One Black Bear in one-half hour can do more to 



