How Animals Talk 



breeze; but now their motion spoke of life, and 

 spoke truly, for out from under the smitten bil- 

 berries came a bear to stand alert in the open. 

 The fore part of his body was lifted up as he 

 planted his paws on a tussock; his massive head 

 was thrust forward as he tried to penetrate the far 

 distance with his near-sighted eyes. He was not 

 suspicious, not a bit; his nose held steady as a 

 pointing dog's, instead of rocking up and down, 

 as it does when a bear tries to steal a message 

 from the air. A moment he poised there, a statue 

 of ebony against the crimson moss; then he 

 leaped a bogan with surprising agility, and came 

 at his easy, shuffling gait around a bend of the 

 shore. Opposite me he sat down to cock his nose 

 at the sky, twisting his head as he followed the 

 motion of something above him, which I could not 

 see, a hornet, perhaps, or a troublesome fly that 

 persisted in buzzing about his ears. Twice he 

 struck quickly with a paw, apparently missing 

 the lively thing overhead; for he jumped up, 

 rushed ahead violently and spun around on the 

 pivot of his toes. Then he settled soberly to his 

 flat-footed shuffle once more, and disappeared in 

 a clump of larches, which seemed to open a door 

 for him as he drew near. 



For me that little comedy was never repeated, 

 though I saw many another on dark days or bright ; 



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