BLACK BEAR. 131 



moving room even looked scarce ; still phalanx after 

 phalanx came swooping down before the wind with 

 the well-known velocity that a wild duck's wings 

 command. Quack, quack, quack, went the ducks on 

 the water ; a prolonged note from those in the air 

 answered. The three notes were an invitation, the one 

 note a hearty response, as willingly accepting the invi- 

 tation as the most hospitable host could desire. 



A few shots filled my bag, and I seated myself on a 

 rock, regardless alike of snow or wind, to admire and 

 learn the instinct of the animal world. Hour after 

 hour glided on, and night was near as I returned my 

 pipe to my pocket, unfolded my covering from around 

 my gun-locks, and rose to depart. The snow had, in 

 the meantime, obliterated my path ; still the familiar 

 trees and the ever-true-speaking mosses told with 

 certainty the direction. Indolently and self-satisfied 

 I broke into the bush on my homeward route ; the 

 weight of the game told heavily on my shoulders. 

 When half of the journey (which I had long 

 wished had been the whole) was reached, I heard a 

 rustling in the brush, evidently caused by large game. 

 Such a warning instantly aroused me, and, on the 

 alert for further sport, I took all the surrounding 

 visible objects in at a glance. In front was a bear. 

 A monster to my vision he appeared, for I was un- 



