With Gun p Rod in Canada 



feeling than if we had gone unarmed. The night was 

 black and misty. When we got to the spot in the road 

 where the bear had greeted us, the colt refused duty, 

 so, sending Ralph ahead with the flash-light and the 

 shotgun, I led the frightened animal by the evil-smelling 

 spot. The Bruin odour was very apparent even to my 

 not over-sensitive nostrils. I was so intent on keeping 

 clear of the flying front feet of the shying, snorting colt, 

 that there was no time to give thought to the bear if 

 she was still in the vicinity. Ralph had the flash-light 

 lashed beneath his shotgun barrels with electric tape, 

 and was well fixed to repel an attack. If it had not been 

 for the possibility of running right up against the blunder- 

 ing cubs, we would have had no fear of the old bear. 

 From previous experience we were cognizant of the 

 fact that curious little cubs are apt to investigate any 

 unexpected noise, and then bawl their heads off with 

 fright if they discover anything bigger than a porcupine. 

 The old she-bear usually works on the principle that if a 

 cub whines it is being maliciously attacked. Immediately 

 she comes a-running, annihilation in her eye. 



Although Ralph and I were both old-timers in the 

 woods, I venture to say that he felt as relieved as I did 

 when we had the colt safely in the barn and were telling 

 our adventures in front of the big fireplace in camp. 



Nothing happened that night nor the next. The 

 traps were unmolested, and the careful watch and ward 

 over the pan of molasses disclosed nothing startling. 

 About noon of the third day two canoes, containing 

 the outfit of the Government geologist, paddled up to 

 our landing with another bear story. It seems they 

 had camped at the mouth of the Kejimkujik River 

 the previous night, and this morning one of the number 

 had stumbled upon two cubs, and had been chased by 

 the irascible old she into the stream up to his neck. 



42 



