old silver-tip grizzly, of great size and evil
temper. Furious at the unexpected trespass on his sovereignty, yet
well aware of his powerlessness against the human creature that could
strike from very far off with lightning and thunder, he had made up
his mind at once to withdraw to some remoter range. Nevertheless, he
had lingered for some days, sullenly expecting he knew not what. These
formless expectations were most unpleasantly fulfilled when he came
upon a man in a canoe paddling close in by the steep shore of the
lake. He had hurled himself blindly down the bank, raging for
vengeance, but when he reached the water's edge, the man was far out
of reach. Then, while he stood there wavering, half minded to swim in
pursuit, the man had spoken with the lightning and the thunder, after
the terrifying fashion of his kind. The bear had felt himself stung
near the tip of the shoulder, as if by a million wasps at once, and
the fiery anguish had brought him to his senses.

It was no use trying to fight man, so he had dashed away into the
thickets, and not halted till he had put miles between himself and the
inexplicable enemy.

For two days, with occasional stops to forage or to sleep, the angry
grizzly had travelled southward, heading towards the lonely peak of
White Face. As the distance from his old haunts increased, his fears
diminished; but his anger grew under the ceaseless fretting of that
wound on his neck just where he could not reach to lick and soothe it.
The flies, however, could reach it very well, and did. As a
consequence, by the time he reached the upper slopes of White Face, he
was in a mood to fight anything. He would have charged a regiment, had
he suddenly found one in his path.

When he turned up a stone for the grubs, beetles, and scorpions which
lurked beneath it, he would send it flying with a savage sweep of his
paw. When he caught a rabbit, he smashed it flat in sheer fury, as if
he cared more to mangle than to eat.

At last he stumbled upon the trail of a puma. As he sniffed at it, he
became, if possible, more angry than ever. Pumas he had always hated.
He had never had a chance to satisfy his grudge, for never had one
dared to face his charge; but they had often snarled down defiance at
him from some limb of oak or pine beyond his reach. He flung himself
forward upon the trail with vengeful ardor. When he realized, from the
fact that it was a much-used trail and led up among the barren rocks,