, , moss was torn, the underbrush spattered with 



shining water drops. " No room for doubt 



•>Aomenos here," I thought ; " Mooween was asleep in 



fiufcasf this pool, and the kingfisher woke him up — 



but why ? and did he do it on purpose ? " 



I remembered suddenly a record in an 

 old notebook, which reads : " Sugarloaf Lake, 

 26 July. — Tried to stalk a bear this noon. 

 No luck. He was nosing alongshore and I 

 had a perfect chance ; but a kingfisher scared 

 him." I began to wonder how the rattle of 

 a kingfisher, which is one of the commonest 

 sounds on wilderness waters, could scare 

 a bear, who knows all the sounds of the 

 wilderness perfectly. Perhaps Koskomenos 

 has an alarm note and uses it for a friend in 

 time of need, as gulls go out of their way to 

 alarm a flock of sleeping ducks when danger 

 is approaching. 



Here was a new trait, a touch of the 

 human in this unknown, clattering suspect 

 of the fishing streams. I resolved to watch 

 him with keener interest. 



Somewhere above me, deep in the tangle 

 of the summer wilderness, Mooween stood 



