o do not know its ways or habits, or what to do to make it
feel that it is among friends; but it was a mistake--it went into such
fits at the sight of the kangaroo that I was convinced it had never seen
one before. I pity the poor noisy little animal, but there is nothing
I can do to make it happy. If I could tame it--but that is out of the
question; the more I try the worse I seem to make it. It grieves me to
the heart to see it in its little storms of sorrow and passion. I wanted
to let it go, but she wouldn't hear of it. That seemed cruel and not
like her; and yet she may be right. It might be lonelier than ever; for
since I cannot find another one, how could IT?

FIVE MONTHS LATER.--It is not a kangaroo. No, for it supports itself by
holding to her finger, and thus goes a few steps on its hind legs, and
then falls down. It is probably some kind of a bear; and yet it has
no tail--as yet--and no fur, except upon its head. It still keeps on
growing--that is a curious circumstance, for bears get their growth
earlier than this. Bears are dangerous--since our catastrophe--and I
shall not be satisfied to have this one prowling about the place much
longer without a muzzle on. I have offered to get her a kangaroo if she
would let this one go, but it did no good--she is determined to run us
into all sorts of foolish risks, I think. She was not like this before
she lost her mind.

A FORTNIGHT LATER.--I examined its mouth. There is no danger yet: it has
only one tooth. It has no tail yet. It makes more noise now than it ever
did before--and mainly at night. I have moved out. But I shall go over,
mornings, to breakfast, and see if it has more teeth. If it gets a
mouthful of teeth it will be time for it to go, tail or no tail, for a
bear does not need a tail in order to be dangerous.

FOUR MONTHS LATER.--I have been off hunting and fishing a month, up
in the region that she calls Buffalo; I don't know why, unless it is
because there are not any buffaloes there. Meantime the bear has learned
to paddle around all by itself on its hind legs, and says "poppa" and
"momma." It is certainly a new species. This resemblance to words may
be purely accidental, of course, and may have no purpose or meaning;
but even in that case it is still extraordinary, and is a thing which no
other bear can do. This imitation of speech, taken together with general
absence of fur and entire absence of tail, sufficiently indicates that
this is a new kind