ugh to give her strong claws a chance
to take hold. In the full, unclouded light of the white moon she was a
pathetic figure, bending and crouching and straining, and reaching
down longingly, then stopping to listen to the complaints of pain and
terror that came up out of the dark.

At last she came to the end of the crevice where grew the solitary
birch tree,--the frightened captive following exactly below her and
stretching up toward her against the rock. At this point, close beside
the tree, some roots and tough turf overhung the edge, and the old
bear's paws detected a roughness on the face of the rock just below.
This was enough for her brave and devoted heart. She turned around and
let her hind quarters carefully over the brink, intending to climb
down backwards as bears do. But beyond the first unevenness there was
absolutely nothing that her claws could take hold of. Her great body
was half way over, when she felt herself on the point of falling.
Making a sudden startled effort to recover herself, she clutched
desperately at the trunk of the birch tree with one arm, at the roots
of the berry-bushes with the other,--and just managed to regain the
level.

For herself, this mighty effort was just enough. But for the
birch-tree it was just too much. The shallow earth by which it held
gave way; and the next moment, with a clatter of loosened stones and a
swish of leafy branches, it crashed majestically down into the
crevice, closing one end of it with a mass of boughs and foliage, and
once more frightening the imprisoned cub almost out of his senses.

At the first sound of this cataclysm, at the first rattle of loose
earth about his ears, the cub had bounced madly to the other end of
the crevice, where he crouched, whimpering. The old bear, too, was
daunted for some seconds; but then, seeing that the cub was not hurt,
she was quick to perceive the advantage of the accident. Standing at
the upturned roots of the tree, she called eagerly and encouragingly
to the cub, pointing out the path of escape thus offered to him. For
some minutes he was too terrified to approach. At last she set her own
weight on the trunk, testing it, and prepared to climb down and lead
him out. At this, however, the youngster's nerve revived. With a
joyful and understanding squeal, he rushed forward, sprawled and
clawed his way over the tangle of branches, gained the firm
trunk,--and presently found himself again beside his mother among the