HABITS OF THE BLACK BEAR. 165 
truly be fool-hardy and reckless of consequences, and in my 
belief such conduct is, except in cases of emergency, most 
unjustifiable. For one who returns safe in limb and skin 
from such a contest, the majority who attempt it get fear- 
fully mauled, or very possibly disabled. 
The black bear in a state of captivity is extremely rest- 
less, and, when old, bad-tempered and treacherous, more 
especially should he have been teased in his youth; but 
when he roves the forest, free, he is the laziest and most 
luxurious fellow, sleeping the greater portion of his time, 
feeding on nuts or luscious fruits, playing in the sun’s heat 
with comrades, and seldom quarreling with his brethren. 
When passages of arms take place, love is the cause, and 
the battle is waged more in words than blows. 
Two or three years ago, in the autumn, about midnight, 
I was passing through a chain of lakes in the State of 
Maine; the night was lighted by an occasional star, strug- 
‘ gling through the rapidly fleeting dark clouds for an op- 
portunity to show the earth its brilliancy. I was alone, 
and, save the splash of my paddle and the occasional un- 
earthly call of the loon, all was still as the grave. A nar- 
row passage I traversed, to avoid the weeds, made me hug 
the land so close that occasionally the limb of a tree would 
brush against my birch- bark canoe. With a suddenness 
that made my heart’s blood run cold, a yell from some un- 
known beast, loud, shrill, and unearthly, so close that I al- 
most believed for a2 moment that the cause was within 
reach, echoed from tree to tree, and died away, reverbera- 
ting in the distance. Again and again it was repeated. 
For a while I remained motionless, till the cool breeze re- 
called me to myself, and I proceeded homeward. Next 
morning I returned to examine the place.. A veteran hunt- 
er was my companion, and we found such convincing proot 
that bears had been there, that one of them, I feel certain, 
