Mooween the Bear. Iqi 



lap the water, and perhaps find a dead fish before 

 going back for his afternoon sleep. 



Four or five times I have sat thus in my canoe 

 while Mooween passed close by, and never suspected 

 my presence till a chirp drew his attention. It is 

 curious at such times, when there i.~) no wind to bring 

 the scent to his keen nose, to see him turn hi.^ head to 

 one side, and wrinkle his forehead in the A'ain endeavor 

 to make out the curious object there in the grass. At 

 last he rises on his hind legs, and stares long and 

 intently. It seems as if he must recognize \'OU, with 

 his nose }3ointing straight at }'0u, his e\'es looking 

 straight into yours. But he drops on all fours again, 

 and glides silently into the thick bushes that fringe 

 the shore. 



Don't stir now, nor make the least sound. He 

 is in there, just out of sight, sitting on his haunches, 

 using nose and ears to catch j'oiu' slightest message. 



Ten minutes pass by in intense silence. Down on 

 the shore, fifty yards below, a slight swa}-ing of the 

 bilberry bushes catches your eye. That surely is not 

 the bear! There has not been a sound since he dis- 

 appeared. A squirrel could hardly creep through that 

 underbrush without noise enough to tell where he 

 was. But the bushes sway again, and Mooween reap- 

 pears suddenly for another long lr)ok at the suspicious 

 object. Then he turns and plods his way along 



