LAPLAND. 109 



The needle pointed right enough; but when I 

 asked him in what direction he fancied Melbourne 

 now lay, he knew no more than the compass itself. 

 He had no bearings, nor had he the slightest idea 

 as to the use of the compass, but seemed to think 

 that, like the hands of a watch, which point to the 

 hour, the pointer of the compass would show him 

 the road home. As to our two compasses — 

 gingerbread, German things — they were out of 

 repair long before we reached Quickiock, and were 

 just as well broken as whole, in the hands of men 

 who had no idea how to use them. 



But to return to my tale. I was not much 

 troubled at my disaster, for I knew it could be but 

 one night out, and I had my gun, plenty of matches, 

 salt and tobacco, lots of ripa in the forest, and 

 water in all the brooks ; so as I was rather tired I 

 made up my mind to camp up at once ; and while 

 looking about for a likely place I chanced to 

 stumble on the real landlord of this wild domain, 

 in the shape of an old brown bear, who, from his 

 immense size, and grisly, venerable appearance, 

 must have been the very patriarch of the forest. 

 It was the first time I had ever seen old Bruin at 

 home ; and, unprepared as I was, without a bullet 

 to give him a proper welcome, I can't say that I 

 much relished the meeting. It was in a deep but 

 by no means thick forest, and my attention was 



