tump or a caribou,
should you chance to be standing still.

If fortunate enough to find the ridge where he sleeps away the long
summer days, one is almost sure to get a glimpse of him by watching on
the lake below. It is necessary only to sit perfectly still in your
canoe among the water-grasses near shore. When near a lake, a bear
will almost invariably come down about noontime to sniff carefully all
about, and lap the water, and perhaps find a dead fish before going
back for his afternoon sleep.

Four or five times I have sat thus in my canoe while Mooween passed
close by, and never suspected my presence till a chirp drew his
attention. It is curious at such times, when there is no wind to bring
the scent to his keen nose, to see him turn his head to one side, and
wrinkle his forehead in the vain endeavor to make out the curious
object there in the grass. At last he rises on his hind legs, and
stares long and intently. It seems as if he must recognize you, with
his nose pointing straight at you, his eyes looking straight into
yours. But he drops on all fours again, and glides silently into the
thick bushes that fringe the shore.

Don't stir now, nor make the least sound. He is in there, just out of
sight, sitting on his haunches, using nose and ears to catch your
slightest message.

Ten minutes pass by in intense silence. Down on the shore, fifty yards
below, a slight swaying of the bilberry bushes catches your eye. That
surely is not the bear! There has not been a sound since he
disappeared. A squirrel could hardly creep through that underbrush
without noise enough to tell where he was. But the bushes sway again,
and Mooween reappears suddenly for another long look at the suspicious
object. Then he turns and plods his way along shore, rolling his head
from side to side as if completely mystified.

Now swing your canoe well out into the lake, and head him off on the
point, a quarter of a mile below. Hold the canoe quiet just outside
the lily pads by grasping a few tough stems, and sit low. This time
the big object catches Mooween's eye as he rounds the point; and you
have only to sit still to see him go through the same maneuvers with
greater mystification than before.

Once, however, he varied his program, and gave me a terrible start,
letting me know for a moment just how it feels to be hunted, at the
same time showing with what marvelous stillness he can glide through
the thickest cover when he chooses.