Mooween the Bear. 203 



little beaver pond, where the separate challenges had 

 become indistinguishable on the torn bark. The 

 freshest marks here were those of a long-limbed old 

 ranger — a monster he must have been — with a clear 

 reach of a foot above his nearest rival. Evidently no 

 other bear had cared to try after such a record. 



Once, in the mating season, I discovered cjuite by 

 accident that Mooween can be called, like a hawk or 

 a moose, or indeed any other wild creature, if one 

 but knows how. It was in New Brunswick, where I 

 was camped on a wild forest river. At midnight I was 

 back at a little opening in the woods, watching some 

 hares at play in the bright moonlight. When they 

 had run away, I called a wood-mouse out from his den 

 under a stump ; and then a big brown owl fi'om across 

 the river — which almost scared the life out of my poor 

 little wood-mouse. Suddenly a strange cry sounded 

 far back on the mountain. I listened curiously, then 

 imitated the cry, in tlie hope of hearing it again and 

 of remembering it ; for I had never before heard any- 

 thing like the sound, and had no idea what creature 

 produced it. There was no response, however, and I 

 speedily grew interested in the owls ; for by this time 

 two or three more were hooting about me, all called 

 in by the first comer. When they had gone I tried 

 the strange call again. Instantly it was answered 

 close at hand. The creature was coming. 



