CHAP. vi. HORNS AND ANTLERS. 85 



that of an arrow as it cleaves the air. It has never been 

 my good fortune (printed type cannot show the tremble 

 of glad anticipation which the written words disclose) it 

 has never, I say, been my good fortune to meet a grizzly 

 bear face to face ; but I fancy that the pleasurable excite- 

 ment of the encounter would prevent my observing him 

 with that calm scientific curiosity of which I am conscious 

 as I offer him a propitiatory bun at Regent's Park, or that 

 perfect fearlessness with which I handle him when 

 stuffed. 



In truth, if we are led to take a real interest in animal 

 life we shall be glad to become acquainted with it in 

 all possible ways. We shall examine the stuffed speci- 

 mens in the museum, even if we do see where the creature 

 has been sewn up, and perceive a little hay protruding 

 here and there ; we shall stand without a shudder before 

 the skeleton that we may learn what the supporting 

 framework of the beast is like ; we shall visit the Zoo to 

 observe the movements, attitudes, and living expressions 

 of our dumb subjects ; we shall be glad to learn something 

 of the marvellous life processes which are running their 

 orderly course beneath those sleek hides and behind those 

 gleaming eyes ; and, best of all, we shall lose no oppor- 

 tunity of becoming acquainted with their joyous life in 

 the woods or on the plains beneath the canopy of heaven. 

 Yes, I say joyous life, notwithstanding the keen struggle 

 for existence ; for life while it lasts is full of health and 

 activity, the work of to-day's existence leaves no room for 

 cares for the morrow, and death when it comes is sure 

 and swift. 



I must not, however, thus moralize on life in general, 

 but must tell you something about horns and antlers, and 

 the creatures on whose heads they are borne. 



Well, then, come with me and let us look at these 



