BEARS. 153 



until a mass of foam runs down on both sides of the mouth. 

 After that it continues its rambles.' " 



The black bear is also the subject of certain superstitions among 

 some of the tribes of North American Indians, who are said 

 never to slay an animal of this species except through necessity, 

 and even then express in many curious ways their sorrow for 

 the act. 



There is a variety of this bear to be found in California and 

 west of the Eocky Mountains, which differs in colour considerably, 

 and is called, in consequence, the cinnamon bear ( Ursus occidentalis). 



The two specimens of black bears in the possession of the 

 Zoological Society are kept in the bear's pit. They have been 

 so much over-fed with buns by the children and visitors to the 

 Gardens, and have become so fat and lazy, that it is with 

 diflBculty they can now be enticed to climb the pole provided 

 for the purpose of exhibiting their agility this way. 



The following incident, which, although amusing, might have 

 had a tragical termination, occurred at this pit. The scene was 

 witnessed by a visitor to the Zoological Gardens, who says, in a 

 letter to the Times of July, 1867, which he wrote thinking the 

 account might be interesting as an illustration of the sim- 

 plicity of the nineteenth century : " A youth, about twenty years 

 of age, was amusing himself with the bears, and by some mis- 

 chance let his hat fall into the bear-pit ; not liking to lose his 

 ' covering,' he gently let himself down into the pit, and on his 

 descent one of the bears hugged him, threw him on his back, 

 and tried to drag him into his den. A cry was immediately 

 raised by the bystanders, and the keeper, who was fortunately 

 near at the time, shouted to the animal, and he released his 

 victim ; the keeper then handed a stick to the youth to keep the 

 bears in abeyance while he fetched the key. This was speedily 

 done, and the young man was liberated uninjured in body, his 

 coat only having suffered in the encounter, being slightly torn by 

 the claws of the animal. When asked by the keeper how he came 

 to do such a thing, he quietly replied, ' He did not know their 

 nature.' I saw the young man in the Gardens a considerable 

 time afterwards, without his hat (the bears having made a 



