]

He did not have long to wait, for a gust of wind soon dropped a bit of
bark upon the stream near the crouching bear. There was a spray of
water, and a flash of the silver sides of the salmon as it darted to
the surface. Then the bear on the rock reached down with her paw and,
with a lightning-like motion, batted the fish out of the water and well
up on the bank.

Black Bruin, during his year of wild life, had found several dead fish,
which he had eaten with great relish. So, without waiting to consider
that the prize did not belong to him, he started out of the bushes for
it.

But the real fisherman rushed at him with such ferocity that he quickly
retreated to cover and sat watching while she killed the fish.

When it had been dispatched, the lucky fisherman took it in her mouth
and went away into the woods with the prize. Black Bruin followed at a
distance, smelling of the bushes, where the fish brushed in passing,
leaving a tantalizing scent.

Finally, the bear with the fish stopped under some spruces and began
eating it.

Soon two fuzzy shuffling little creatures joined her. What they were
or where they came from Black Bruin did not know. They seemed not to
care much for the fish which the old bear offered them, but preferred
to romp and tumble about in the jolliest kind of frolic.

In the old days there had been a litter of puppies at the farmhouse.
These queer little creatures were about the size of puppies, but Black
Bruin did not think they were small dogs.

When the fish had been eaten, the three went away farther into the
woods, the two small creatures following in the footsteps of their
mother.

Then Black Bruin went up and smelled of their tracks and his good nose
told him that they were small bears.

After that Black Bruin saw the old bear and her two cubs often, but she
would not let him come near them, and did not evince much friendliness
for him. But he had learned one valuable lesson and the following day
was upon the flat rock watching for fish.

He did not get one that day or the next, but he had patience, which all
fishermen must have, and the third day got his fish.

It was much larger than the one he had seen the strange bear take and
it made him a fine meal. After that he was a tireless fisherman.

One morning Black Bruin discovered a little dappled fawn following its
mother gleefully through the fragrant breeze-haunted forest, and
remembering his calf-killing episode, j