ink
whispered: "Sh-h! There he is."

Sure enough, there was Buster Bear sitting close beside a little pool
and looking into it very intently.

"What's he doing?" asked Little Joe Otter, as Buster Bear sat for the
longest time without moving.

Just then one of Buster's big paws went into the water as quick as a
flash and scooped out a trout that had ventured too near.

"He's fishing!" exclaimed Billy Mink.

And that is just what Buster Bear was doing, and it was very plain to
see that he was having great fun. When he had eaten the trout he had
caught, he moved along to the next little pool.

"They are _our_ fish!" said Little Joe fiercely. "He has no business
catching _our_ fish!"

"I don't see how we are going to stop him," said Billy Mink.

"I do!" cried Little Joe, into whose head an idea had just popped. "I'm
going to drive all the fish out of the little pools and muddy the water
all up. Then we'll see how many fish he will get! Just you watch me get
even with Buster Bear."

Little Joe slipped swiftly into the water and swam straight to the
little pool that Buster Bear would try next. He frightened the fish so
that they fled in every direction. Then he stirred up the mud until the
water was so dirty that Buster couldn't have seen a fish right under his
nose. He did the same thing in the next pool and the next. Buster Bear's
fishing was spoiled for that day.

III

BUSTER BEAR IS GREATLY PUZZLED

Buster Bear hadn't enjoyed himself so much since he came to the Green
Forest to live. His fun began when he surprised Little Joe Otter on the
bank of a little pool in the Laughing Brook and Little Joe was so
frightened that he dropped a fat trout he had just caught. It had seemed
like a great joke to Buster Bear, and he had chuckled over it all the
time he was eating the fat trout. When he had finished it, he started on
to do some fishing himself.

Presently he came to another little pool. He stole up to it very, very
softly, so as not to frighten the fish. Then he sat down close to the
edge of it and didn't move. Buster learned a long time ago that a
fisherman must be patient unless, like Little Joe Otter, he is just as
much at home in the water as the fish themselves, and can swim fast
enough to catch them by chasing them. So he didn't move so much as an
eye lash. He was so still that he looked almost like the stump of an old
tree. Perhaps that is what the fish thought he was, for pretty soon, two
o