began to grow white. Through the opening in my den I watched the snow
falling for some time, but did not venture out; and as the afternoon
wore on, and it only fell faster and faster, I saw that it would soon
pile up and close the door upon me.

There was no danger of its coming in, for I had taken care that the roof
overhung far enough to prevent anything falling in from above, and the
den was too well sheltered for the wind to drift the snow inside. So I
burrowed down into my leaves and pine-needles, and worked them up on
both sides till only a narrow slit of an opening remained, and through
this slit, sitting back on my haunches against the rear of the little
cave I watched the white wall rising outside. All that night and all
next day it snowed, and by the second evening there was hardly a ray of
light coming in. I remember feeling a certain pride in being all alone,
in the warm nest made by myself, for the first time in my life; and I
sat back and mumbled at my paw, and grew gradually drowsier and
drowsier, till I hardly knew when the morning came, for I was very
sleepy and the daylight scarcely pierced the wall of snow outside. And
before another night fell I was asleep, while outside the white covering
which was to shut me in for the next four months at least, was growing
thicker. Under it I was as safe and snug up there in the heart of the
mountains as ever a man could be in any house that he might build.

CHAPTER VIII.

ALONE IN THE WORLD.

Have you any idea how frightfully stiff one is after nearly five months'
consecutive sleep? Of course, a bear is not actually asleep for the
greater part of the time, but in a deliciously drowsy condition that is
halfway between sleeping and waking. It is very good. Of course, you
lose all count and thought of time; days and weeks and months are all
the same. You only know that, having been asleep, you are partly awake
again. There is no light, but you can see the wall of your den in front
of you, and dimly you know that, while all the world outside is
snow-covered and swept with bitter winds, and the earth is gripped solid
in the frost, you are very warm and comfortable. Changes of temperature
do not reach you, and you sit and croon to yourself and mumble your
paws, and all sorts of thoughts and tangled scraps of dreams go swimming
through your head until, before you know it, you have forgotten
everything and are asleep again.

Then again you find yourself aw