AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. 159 
ducks on the water; a prolonged note from those in the 
air answered. ‘The three notes were an invitation, the one 
note a hearty response, as willingly accepting the invitation 
as the most hospitable host could desire. 
A few shots filled my bag, and I seated myself on a rock, 
regardless alike of snow or wind, to admire and learn the 
instinct of the animal world. Hour after hour glided on, 
and night was near as I returned my pipe to my pocket, 
unfolded my covering from around my gun-locks, and rose 
to depart. The snow had in the mean time obliterated my 
path; still the familiar trees and the ever-true-speaking 
mosses told with certainty the direction. Indolently and 
self-satisfied I broke into the bush on my homeward route; 
the weight of the game told heavily on my shoulders. 
When half of the journey (which I had long wished had 
been the whole) was reached, I heard a rustling in the 
brush, evidently caused by large game. Such a warning 
instantly aroused me, and, on the alert for further sport, I 
took all the surrounding visible objects in at a glance. In 
front was a bear. A monster to my vision he appeared, 
for I was uninitiated at that time—and I believe the eye 
has a trick of dealing in the marvelous with unaccustomed 
objects—and, to my horror, Bruin was coming directly to- 
ward me. My first feeling was to fly; next, to ascend a 
tree; thirdly, to disappear into my boots. The second 
glance gave me more assurance. Mr. Bear was evidently 
on urgent private affairs ; his whole manner bespoke this; 
and he did not see me; so I determined to stand still, hop- 
ing he would remain ignorant of my presence, or, at least, 
give me a fair show, if compelled to fight. Onward ad- 
vanced Bruin; closer and closer he came, and the nearer 
he approached the farther my heart came into my mouth. 
Still he was fifty yards off, and had plenty of time to change 
his course; but no such change took place; for if he had 
