out between her ears, and then I had a chance 

 to see it better a wonderful face, full of 

 Brofher wn ims and drollery, with a white ring about 

 its pointed muzzle, and a dark line running 

 from the top of its nose and spreading into 

 ebony rings around each eye, as if he were 

 wearing queer smoked goggles, behind which 

 the eyes twinkled and shone, or grew sober 

 with much gravity as he heard the duck 

 quacking. A keen face, yet very innocent, in 

 which dog intelligence and fox cunning and 

 bear drollery mingled perfectly; a face full 

 of surprises, that set you smiling and think- 

 ing at once; a fascinating, inquisitive face, 

 the most lovable and contradictious among 

 the Wood Folk, the face of Mooweesuk the 

 coon, the Little Brother to the Bear, as Indian 

 and naturalist unite in calling him. 



The mother came out first and sagged 

 away backwards down the tree, swinging her 

 head from side to side to look down and see 

 how far yet, in true bear fashion. The four 

 little ones followed her, clawing and whining 

 their way to the bottom all but one, who 

 when half-way down turned and jumped, 



