28 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



feet, then continued to run back and forth. Finally, as 

 I kept coming closer, it stood on its hind feet, placed its 

 forepaws on the dead mother and began spitting at me. 

 I stooped low and crept within six feet, ready to place a 

 noose, made from my belt and the straps from the kodak 

 and field-glass, over its head, when suddenly it pushed 

 forward its nose, sniffed at me several times in terror, 

 turned and rushed up the mountain slope. I started to 

 pursue, but it distanced me so rapidly that the chase 

 was soon given up. 



No one who reads this experience should miss the 

 significance of the cub's final action. It was a tiny cub, 

 born the preceding winter, and could have received no 

 impressions of human beings from experience. It did not 

 fear the sight of man, but the scent of man immediately 

 inspired it with terror. Fear of the odor of man was 

 clearly an instinct. What was the origin of this instinct ? 

 Surely, in that remote part of the country, the cub's 

 ancestors could not have experienced a fear of the scent 

 of man for generations numerous enough to have the 

 trait registered in the nervous organization and fixed, 

 so that it was transmitted by heredity to the young! 

 This would require frequent repetitions of the experience, 

 through too many generations, and it is not reasonable to 

 believe this possible. In my opinion this instinct had its 

 origin in a period so remote in the past that we have no 

 facts at all to explain it, and we can only affirm its exist- 

 ence, as clearly exhibited in this case. The instinct may 

 include the fear of any strange scent as hostile. All bears 

 with which I have had experience before or after, had 



