36 WILD BROTHER 
Soon after lunch my teamster arrived, and we 
started back for the settlements with one of the 
woodsmen who was going out. We were talking 
about the bear, when I mentioned that I had a duty 
to perform — that I must find a suitable name for 
the baby. 
“T wish yer would git a name fer that kid, Mr. 
Underwood,” said the lumberman. “Us fellers 
has scratched our hair thin on the tops of our 
heads, and we’ve wore out all the almanacs in 
camp lookin’ fer a good name fer that girl.” 
After reaching home my first concern was to de- 
velop my photographs — and they came out very 
well. I next gave my mind to the selection of a 
name for the foster-sister. In a family council we 
went thoroughly into the question. After due de- 
liberation, it was unanimously voted that Ursula 
was most appropriate. I wrote a letter to Mrs. 
Weldon, and told her that Ursula was a Latin word 
meaning little she-bear, and I sent her a silver 
spoon that had come from Berne, Switzerland. 
On the top of its handle was a little silver bear, 
and on the bowl I had had engraved, ‘Ursula, 
February 20, 1903”; and by that name the baby 
was christened, though they threw in for good 
measure the ponderous name of Underwood. To 
make up for this defect, however, they called her 
Lala for short. 
