pretty sure
the bear must be. I was anxious to get a good look at the sturdy
mountaineer without alarming him; so drawing myself up noiselessly back
of one of the largest of the trees I peered past its bulging buttresses,
exposing only a part of my head, and there stood neighbor Bruin within
a stone's throw, his hips covered by tall grass and flowers, and his
front feet on the trunk of a fir that had fallen out into the meadow,
which raised his head so high that he seemed to be standing erect. He
had not yet seen me, but was looking and listening attentively, showing
that in some way he was aware of our approach. I watched his gestures
and tried to make the most of my opportunity to learn what I could about
him, fearing he would catch sight of me and run away. For I had been
told that this sort of bear, the cinnamon, always ran from his bad
brother man, never showing fight unless wounded or in defense of young.
He made a telling picture standing alert in the sunny forest garden. How
well he played his part, harmonizing in bulk and color and shaggy hair
with the trunks of the trees and lush vegetation, as natural a feature
as any other in the landscape. After examining at leisure, noting the
sharp muzzle thrust inquiringly forward, the long shaggy hair on his
broad chest, the stiff, erect ears nearly buried in hair, and the slow,
heavy way he moved his head, I thought I should like to see his gait in
running, so I made a sudden rush at him, shouting and swinging my hat to
frighten him, expecting to see him make haste to get away. But to my
dismay he did not run or show any sign of running. On the contrary, he
stood his ground ready to fight and defend himself, lowered his head,
thrust it forward, and looked sharply and fiercely at me. Then I
suddenly began to fear that upon me would fall the work of running; but
I was afraid to run, and therefore, like the bear, held my ground. We
stood staring at each other in solemn silence within a dozen yards or
thereabouts, while I fervently hoped that the power of the human eye
over wild beasts would prove as great as it is said to be. How long our
awfully strenuous interview lasted, I don't know; but at length in the
slow fullness of time he pulled his huge paws down off the log, and with
magnificent deliberation turned and walked leisurely up the meadow,
stopping frequently to look back over his shoulder to see whether I was
pursuing him, then moving on again, evidently neither fea