attach themselves strongly to man, drawn
doubtless by some unknown but no less strongly felt attraction. It was
so there in the wilderness. The first morning after our arrival at the
birch grove I was down at the shore, preparing a trout for baking in
the ashes, when Chigwooltz, of the ear drums, biggest of all the
frogs, came from among the lily pads. He had lost all fear apparently;
he swam directly up to me, touching my hands with his nose, and even
crawling out to my feet in the greatest curiosity.

After that he took up his abode near the foot of the game path. I had
only to splash the water there with my finger when he would come from
beside a green stone, or from under a log or the lily pads--for he
had a dozen hiding places--and swim up to me to be fed, or petted, or
to have his back scratched.

He ate all sorts of things, insects, bread, beef, game and fish,
either raw or cooked. I would attach a bit of meat to a string or
straw, and wiggle it before him, to make it seem alive. The moment he
saw it (he had a queer way sometimes of staring hard at a thing
without seeing it) he would crouch and creep towards it, nearer and
nearer, softly and more softly, like a cat stalking a chipmunk. Then
there would be a red flash and the meat would be gone. The red flash
was his tongue, which is attached at the outer end and folds back in
his mouth. It is, moreover, large and sticky, and he can throw it out
and back like lightning. All you see is the red flash of it, and his
game is gone.

One day, to try the effects of nicotine on a new subject, I took a bit
of Simmo's black tobacco and gave it to Chigwooltz. He ate it
thankfully, as he did everything else I gave him. In a little while he
grew uneasy, sitting up and rubbing his belly with his fore paws.
Presently he brought his stomach up into his mouth, turned it inside
out to get rid of the tobacco, washed it thoroughly in the lake,
swallowed it down again, and was ready for his bread and beef. A most
convenient arrangement that; and also a perfectly unbiased opinion on
a much debated subject.

Chigwooltz, unlike many of my pets, was not in the least dependent on
my bounty. Indeed, he was a remarkable hunter on his own account, and
what he took from me he took as hospitality, not charity. One morning
he came to me with the tail of a small trout sticking out of his
mouth. The rest of the fish was below, being digested. Another day,
towards twilight, I saw him resting