CHAPTER IX 



THE HAPPY-GO-LUCKY BLACK BEAR 



ONE windy autumn day I sat in a moun- 

 tain forest watching pine cones bouncing 

 and rolling across a steep, grassy open- 

 ing. A black bear started across the opening. 

 A cone struck near by and bounced high, 

 slightly in front of him. He leaped for it, 

 striking with left forepaw. Two other cones 

 dropped, and after these like lightning to right 

 and left he rushed ; then came three or four cones 

 at once. He stood still and with his eyes fol- 

 lowed one cone at a time, watching the ones that 

 rolled farthest. One cone bounded and lodged 

 in the fur of his back. Lazily he turned to 

 look at it, and more lazily reached around, trying 

 to get his teeth over it. Then he ran in a circle 

 three or four times, stopped, looked at the cone, 

 then circled again. He rolled over, picked up 

 the cone, dropped it, picked it up again, turned 

 to look at the falling cones, then walked on into 

 the woods with nothing on his mind. 



The Indian has given many an animal a name 

 that is a key to its character. But he never hit 



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