PLAY AND PRANKS OF WILD FOLK 211 



On perfect days butterflies sail over high moor- 

 lands and even cross high mountain tops. But 

 while sailing on the heights they are ever vigilant 

 for wind. The short-lived, unannounced gusts 

 would blow their tender wings to pieces in an 

 instant. If a dash of wind, or sometimes just 

 a cloud shadow comes, they fold wings and drop 

 to the earth. There they lie motionless until all 

 danger is passed. Yet these frail, afraid-of-t he- 

 wind people seek out a place of their liking to play 

 high up among the crags. 



I recall once having seen two different plays go- 

 ing on side by side. Each was a stirring glimpse 

 of motherhood. A mother bear lay on her side 

 contentedly watching the cubs as they wrestled, 

 boxed each other, and occasionally mauled her. 

 They were near the summit of the Continental 

 Divide and all around were scattered snow-drifts 

 and aged, storm-battered pines. On a near-by cliff 

 were a Bighorn ewe and two lambs. The lambs 

 were leaping over the mother and playing with 

 each other. Each wild mother knew of the other's 

 presence, but was indifferent. 



With animals, as with ourselves, play appears 

 to be necessary for the development of the young 

 and for the sustained fitness of the mature. As a 

 factor which gives success, it probably ranks with 

 food and sleep. Play drills give development and 

 efficiency. 



Play is the nearest approach to the magic foun- 



