170 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 
my juvenile companion was descending, when I asked him 
to listen to the noise, for I felt convinced it emanated from 
no other than a bear feeding, enjoying his favorite bonne 
bouche, the blue-berries. Young America listened; Bruin 
gave another grunt of evident satisfaction, when the for- 
mer, exclaiming “ Bear!” slid down the tree with such agil- 
ity as would have put in shade the majority of monkeys. 
As soon as he reached the ground, off he started down 
stream; but the funniest part of all was that my guide, in 
the precipitancy of his movements, must have tripped over 
the hummocks at least half a dozen times in a dozen strides. 
When we had got thirty or forty yards off—for I followed, 
though scarcely as rapidly—my amour propre asserted it- 
self, and I halted; not so my companion; soon he disap- 
peared through the labyrinth of shrubs, and I remained 
alone. To my relief I found no bear was in pursuit, so, 
placing my rod against a stalwart hemlock, I ascended its 
branches to take a survey of the situation: for a long time 
I could not discover Bruin, but at length detected a large 
mass of black fur, accompanied by two smaller ones, busily 
employed feeding. They had quitted the wet ground and 
were on the edge of an acclivity, where the mother was 
most industriously drawing the broken fragments of shat- 
tered logs on one side, while her hopeful progeny feasted 
upon the beetles and ants thus exposed. The old lady had 
neither winded nor heard us, and she remained sedulously 
pursuing her avocation, perfectly ignorant that her indus- 
try and strength were forming a subject of admiration to a 
‘son of Adam. At length their search for insects took them 
out of sight, and I descended to join my companions. 
The day by this time was far spent, and neither of us 
having arms suitable for an assault upon the happy family, 
we determined to seek the settlement and revisit the scene 
on the morrow. Next day, at an early hour, with quite a 
