, but the underside of his foot is not so hairy as that of
his mate. Then, too, as you know, there are other signs by which a
tracker tells the sex of his quarry. Now if the bear was travelling
with a definite purpose in mind, he would travel straight, or as nearly
straight as he could through the woods, and in order to save time, he
might even occasionally climb a tree to spy out the lay of the land--as
he frequently does. Then, again, if he were feeding, the ground and
growth beside his trail would show it; if suddenly startled, he would
leave the familiar sign that all large animals usually leave when
frightened; and, moreover, it would be left within fifty paces of the
place where he took fright. Furthermore, if he were tired and wanted
to rest, he would begin circling down wind, so that he could come about
close to his back trail, and then lie down, facing down wind, in such a
position that he could see anything he could not scent, and scent
anything he could not see. Thus if an enemy approached, his eyes would
guard his front while his scent would guard his rear. And now, my son,
as a bear usually travels up wind, even a _monias_ of a white man could
surmise which way the wind was blowing when the track was made. And
always remember, my son, that only fools laugh at common sense. But
don't get discouraged, keep on trying hard to learn, and then perhaps
some day, if you live long enough, you may become almost as wise as an
ordinary Indian."

The perfect season for hunting the black bear, and in fact all other
fur-bearing animals, is between the coming of the snow in late autumn
and the going of the snow in early spring, for during that intervening
season the coat is in its prime; but as the bear spends much of the
winter in hibernation, the hunter must make the best of his two short
opportunities; that is, unless he already knows where the bear will
"den up," and is counting on killing him in his _o-wazhe_--or as the
white hunters and traders call it "wash"--his den. His wash may
consist of a hollow tree or a hollow log, a cave, or any suitable
shelter formed by an uprooted tree.

The finest wash I ever saw was in the woods of Quebec, where, many
years ago, three birch saplings had taken root in a huge, hollow pine
stump, and where, as time passed, the stump, gradually decaying, had
allowed the roots of the fast-growing birches to penetrate through the
cracks in the stump to the ground. The roots eventua