rled up as tidily
as any four-footed tenant and fell asleep.

Like the bears in the fairy tale, who came back to find Goldilocks in
the chair and then in the bed of one of them, the real owners of the
cave appeared in the night.

The hunter was awakened suddenly by a noise like rolling thunder in
the narrow entrance. He turned up his lamp, and the flare showed him a
bear, so huge that it blocked the passage-way.

Nimbly the hunter reached for his gun, and before the animal could do
anything more than growl and threaten, a shot had tumbled him flat.

Shoving aside the body, the trapper went out into the cold starlight,
for he knew that the mate of the slain beast might appear at any
moment.

Sure enough, presently over the brow of the hill there shambled in
black silhouette two more bears.

He took careful aim and fired and brought them both down.

The next time he makes a tour of his traps he probably will not choose
a bear's den for his night's lodging. A bear that is harmless in the
open may be excused for getting violent if he finds a man asleep in
the very bed he fixed for himself.

Grenfell's experience with bears for pets--he has tried to tame nearly
everything animate from gulls to whales--was not so happy as with the
caribou. He found that if "pigs is pigs," bears "remain bears, and are
not to be trusted." He had two bear playmates for a long time, but
when they hit out with their paws they dealt some "very nasty
scratches," and what was fun for them was more serious for the tender
pelt of a human being.

The wolverine lives by his wits.

He will turn over a trap and set it off before it can nip him.

He is the pest of the man who has fur traps, for he will go from trap
to trap and grab whatever he finds therein.

He can climb trees and get meat which the owner thought was secure.

Sometimes when he is caught he will get away with the trap and chain
still attached to his leg. He will even carry the trap in his mouth,
to relieve the strain. Like Kipling's Fuzzy Wuzzy in the Sudan, he has
a great way of shamming dead. He may jump up and bite the hunter, or
he may make a sudden dash for freedom. Can you blame him?

One of the most satisfactory creatures of all is the beaver. I
remember a pair in a pond on the west coast of Newfoundland, at
Curling, where a beaver colony had a fine big house they had built in
a lake with a dam of their making at one end. I didn't go into the
house, which was mainly