berth.
Many times, of course--in fact, nearly every day--I met other bears like
myself, and sometimes I made friends with them, and stayed in their
company for the better part of a day, perhaps at a berry-patch or in the
wide shallows of a stream. But there was no place for me--a strong,
growing he-bear, getting on for two years old--in any of the families
that I came across. Parents with young cubs did not want me. Young bears
in their second year were usually in couples. The solitary bears that I
met were generally older than I, and, though we were friendly on
meeting, neither cared for the other's companionship. Again and again in
these meetings I was struck by the fact, that I was unusually big and
strong for my age, the result, I suppose, as I have already said, of the
accident that threw me on my own resources so young. I never met young
bears of my own age that did not seem like cubs to me. Many times I came
across bears who were one and even two years older than myself, but who
had certainly no advantage of me in height, and, I think, none in
weight. But I had no occasion to test my strength in earnest that
summer, and when winter came, and the mountainpeaks in the neighborhood
showed white again against the dull gray sky, I was still a solitary
animal, and acutely conscious of my loneliness.

That year I made my den in a cave which I found high up on a
mountain-side, and which had evidently been used by bears at some
time or other, though not for the last year or two. There I made my
nest with less trouble than the year before, and at the first
serious snowfall I shut myself up for another long sleep.

CHAPTER IX.

I FIND A COMPANION.

The next spring was late. We had a return of cold weather long after
winter ought to have been over, and for a month or more after I moved
out it was no easy matter to find food enough. The snow had been
unusually deep, and had only half melted when the cold returned, so that
the remaining half stayed on the ground a long while, and sometimes it
took me all my time, grubbing up camas roots, turning over stones and
logs, and ripping the bark off fallen trees, to find enough to eat to
keep me even moderately satisfied. Besides the mice and chipmunks which
I caught, I was forced by hunger to dig woodchucks out of their holes,
and eat the young ones, though hitherto I had never eaten any animal so
large.

Somehow, in one way and another, I got along, and when spring re