(Curiosity Tin 



In crossing the mountains in northern New 

 Mexico I was overtaken by a Swede on his way to a 

 lumber-camp. He carried a pack, and a part of it 

 was an accordion. We made camp that night near 

 the head of a gulch. Across from us a treeless moun- 

 tain rose a thousand feet. 



After supper the Swede played on his accordion 

 and was soon lost in music. Pausing in my note- 

 making to enjoy his contented expression, I saw an 

 old grizzly watching us from across the mountain. 

 Standing upon a bowlder, he was looking over the 

 tops of the spruce trees that thrust up out of the 

 gulch. Through my field-glasses he appeared even 

 more lost in wonder at the music than the enthusi- 

 astic, emotional player. When the refrain died away, 

 the grizzly climbed down off the bowlder, and then, 

 as another piece was begun, at once rose to re- 

 mount, but instead stood with fore paws against 

 the bowlder, listening. By and by he started up the 

 mountain, pausing every few steps to turn and lis- 

 ten. He either stood broadside, his head tilted side- 

 ways, or raised himself on tiptoe, fascinated. A loud, 

 lively, clashing close to one piece started him off on 

 a gallop, but as soon as the music stopped the bear 

 paused. He appeared puzzled and fidgeted about 

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