EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 95 



the berries are ripe, and feed on these until the middle of 

 October. At the first frosts, however, they leave this food, 

 which is now falling from the bushes, and go in search of 

 the carcases of deer, scenting them from a great distance. 

 In October, too, they ascend the rowan trees to a consider- 

 able height, breaking off the branches containing the fruit, 

 and sliding down the trunk with the skill of an acrobat. I 

 have seen several trees scored by the marks of their claws 

 as they descended at top speed. The Indians have told me 

 that when the bear is hungry he often grabs greedily at the 

 rowan berries, and, losing his balance, falls with a thud to 

 the ground. Whereupon he shouts with pain and mortifica- 

 tion, and, finding that no bones are broken, sulkily ascends 

 the tree again. John Hinx has seen a bear fall twice out of 

 a high tree, and shot him as he was climbing the third time. 

 Like the fox, they are exceedingly careful when approaching 

 a carcase for the first time (as I shall presently describe), 

 but after they have had a meal of it, will advance boldly up- 

 wind. A few are killed by the Indians in the " deadfall," but 

 bears are so cunning in Newfoundland that they are not 

 often captured in this fashion. Their mischievous habit of 

 wrecking a camp or tilt is well known, and few travellers in 

 the interior have not suffered from their unwelcome visits. 



When the black bear enters a tilt or wigwam, it opens 

 and scatters everything within, whilst it has a curious habit 

 of never departing by the way of entry, preferring to scrape 

 a hole in the side of the shelter by way of exit. Sometimes 

 it tears the whole place to pieces out of pure wickedness. 



Steve Bernard carried a sack of flour and all his stores 

 and ammunition to his log tilt on Jubilee Lake in the autumn 

 of 1902, and then repaired to the coast to see the priest. 

 When he returned, the whole tilt, including fir logs weighing 



