28 WILD BROTHER 
gested that I visit the bear’s den. He would be 
glad to show me the way. 
Strapping snowshoes on our feet, we set out 
through the woods for the dead pine tree that 
marked the spot where Bruno had been born. In 
the shelter of the forest the snow lay four feet deep 
on the level, and as we walked comfortably along 
on its surface, I wondered what these backwoods- 
men would think if they saw us, as we sometimes 
do at home, leave the good walking on roads and 
sidewalks, and tramp with snowshoes across the 
fields, when there are only a few inches of snow on 
the ground. But here snowshoes are not used for 
sport. They are a necessity, and must be worn if 
one leaves the beaten track. 
The den was not more than a third of a mile 
from the camp, and it seemed rather strange that 
the mother bear should have used it that winter, 
for Gordon built his cabins early in September and 
moved in during the last of that month. In De- 
cember one of the men shot a large male bear only 
a short distance from the camp. In all probability 
this was Bruno’s father. Male bears are often slow 
about turning in for the winter. 
Close beside the branch road that had been 
swamped out in January stood the old pine. The 
opening of the den, as I saw it now, was much 
larger than when it was first ‘discovered, on Jan- 
