42 HUNTING THE GRISLY. 



noon. They are rather comical animals to 

 watch feeding and going about the ordinary 

 business of their lives. Once I spent half an 

 hour lying at the edge of a wood and looking 

 at a black bear some three hundred yards off 

 across an open glade. It was in good stalk- 

 ing country, but the wind was unfavorable 

 and I waited for it to shift waited too long 

 as it proved, for something frightened the 

 beast and he made off before I could get a 

 shot at him. When I first saw him he was 

 shuffling along and rooting in the ground, 

 so that he looked like a great pig. Then he 

 began to turn over the stones and logs to 

 hunt for insects, small reptiles, and the like. 

 A moderate-sized stone he would turn over 

 with a single clap of his paw, and then plunge 

 his nose down into the hollow to gobble up 

 the small creatures beneath while still dazed 

 by the light. The big logs and rocks he 

 would tug and worry at with both paws ; 

 once, over-exerting his clumsy strength, he 

 lost his grip and rolled clean on his back. 

 Under some of the logs he evidently fouud 

 mice and chipmunks ; then, as soon as the 

 log was overturned, he would be seen jump- 

 ing about with grotesque agility, and making 

 quick dabs here and there, as the little, scurry- 

 ing rodent turned and twisted, until at last he 

 put his paw on it and scooped it up into his 

 mouth. Sometimes, probably when he smelt 

 the mice underneath, he would cautiously turn 

 the log over with one paw, holding the other 

 lifted and ready to strike. Now and then he 



