row's feathers."

"And now you're as grey as a badger. Some day, before long--before we
get home again may be--your moustache, old fellow, will be as white as
an ermine."

"Very like, master, very like--we'll all be a bit older by that time."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Ivan; "you're right there, Pouchy; but go on,
brother!" he added, turning to Alexis, "let us hear all about these
Scandinavian bears. You have not spoken yet of the `silver' ones."

"No," said Alexis; "nor of another kind that is found in these
countries, and that some naturalists have elevated into a different
species--the `ringed bear.'"

"You mean the bears with a white ring round their necks? Yes, I have
heard of them too."

"Just so," rejoined Alexis.

"Well, brother, what do _you_ think? is it a distinct species, or a
permanent variety?"

"Neither one nor the other. It is merely an accidental marking which
some young individuals of the brown bear chance to have, and it scarcely
ever remains beyond the age of _cubhood_. It is only very young bears
that are met with of this colour; and the white ring disappears as they
get older. It is true that hunters now and then meet with an odd ringed
bear of tolerable size and age; but all agree that he is the brown bear,
and not a distinct kind. The same remarks apply to the `silver' bear;
and hunters say that in a litter of three cubs they have found all three
colours--the common brown, the `ringed,' and the `silver,'--while the
old mother herself was a true _ursus arctos_."

"Well, since papa only binds us to the brown and black, it will be a
nice thing if we could fall in with a skin of the ringed and silver
varieties. It would please him all the better. I wonder now what sort
is this fellow we are following? By the size of his tracks he must be a
wopper!"

"No doubt an old male," rejoined Alexis; "but if I am not mistaken, we
shall soon be able to determine that point. The _spar_ gets fresher and
fresher. He must have passed here but a very short while ago; and I
should not wonder if we were to find him in this very ravine."

"See!" exclaimed Ivan, whose eyes had been lifted from the trail, and
bent impatiently forward;--"see! by the great Peter! yonder's a hole,
under the root of that tree. Why might it not be his cave?"

"It looks like enough. Hush! let us keep to the trail, and go up to it
with caution--not a word!"

All three, now scarce breathing--lest the sound should be hear