to kill bears.' But just then the bear came
towards them, still eating his berries. They were too scared to fire.
One just struck him over the head with his gun, then they both turned
and made for the canoe. The blow made the bear angry as the Thunder God,
and before they could push off shore the bear got his claws on the
edge of the canoe, and away they all went sailing into midstream, the
palefaces paddling for all their lives, and the black bear clinging on
to the canoe. In their fright they had left their guns ashore, and
while one paddled, the other beat the bear's head with the paddle blade.
It was then that I first saw them. I stood on the shore with a very
sickness from laughter in all my bones." Here he ceased talking, for
Fish-Carrier and Wampum had broken into such bursts of merriment that
Fire-Flower was compelled to join them.

"Oh, that I could have seen them, that I could have seen it all!" moaned
Fish-Carrier between gasps. "That must have been a thing to make men
laugh for many moons." But Wampum said nothing; it was not the etiquette
of his race that he should join in the talk of older men, unasked, but
he, too, gulped down his uproarious laughter while Fire-Flower
proceeded.

"The black bear was getting the best of them, for the beating on the
head maddened him. He began to climb up the edge of the canoe, and his
great weight was beginning to overbalance it. I called to them, but as
I do not speak the white man's language, they did not understand. Fear
gripped at their hearts, and, as the bear climbed into the canoe, they
leaped into the river and swam for shore, while the canoe drifted slowly
down stream, the big black bear seated proudly within it like some great
brave who had scalped his enemies."

Another outburst of mirth shook his listeners.

"I am an old man," continued Fire-Flower, "but I have never seen
anything which made me laugh so hard, so long, so loud. The palefaces
swam back to their camp and their guns, calling out to me over and over
to save their canoe for them. So I put out in my own dugout and gave
chase. I caught their canoe, overturned it, and into the water rolled
the bear. Then as he came at me, catching my canoe in his big claws,
I just drowned him the old Indian way."*

[*The above incident really occurred on the Grand River, about the
year 1850, the writer's father having witnessed it.]

More laughter greeted this. Then young Wampum made bold to speak. "My
uncle,"