e lake shore and of
discovering, suddenly, that it was an immense fish.'

"'Since I learned that I was to meet you I have been reading a book
entitled _The Animals of North America_,' said Mrs. Biggars. 'I have
learned that bears often climb after and above the hunter and double
themselves up and fall toward him, knocking him out of the tree. Have
you seen it done?'

"'I think it was never done outside a book,' I answered. 'I never saw
a bear that was not running away from me. They hate the look of a man.'

"Mrs. Biggars was filled with astonishment and went on: 'The author
tells of an animal on the borders of Canada that resembles a horse. It
has cloven hoofs, a shaggy mane, a horn right out of its forehead and a
tail like that of a pig. When hunted it spews hot water upon the dogs.
I wonder if you could have seen such an animal?'

"'No, that's another nightmare,' I answered. 'People go hunting for
nightmares in America. They enjoy them and often think they have found
them when they have not. It all comes of trying to talk with Indians
and of guessing at the things they say.'

"Sir Benjamin remarked that when a man wrote about nature he seemed to
regard himself as a first deputy of God.

"'And undertakes to lend him a hand in the work of creation,' I
suggested. 'Even your great Doctor Johnson has stated that swallows
spend the winter at the bottom of the streams, forgetting that they
might find it a rather slippery place to hang on to and a winter a long
time to hold their breaths. Even Goldsmith has been divinely reckless
in his treatment of 'Animated Nature.'

"'I am surprised, sir, at your familiarity with English authors,' he
declared. 'When we think of America we are apt to think of savages and
poverty and ignorance and log huts.'

"'You forget, sir, that we have about all the best books and the
leisure to read them,' I answered.

"'You undoubtedly have the best game,' said he. 'Tell us about the
shooting and fishing.'

"I told of the deer, the moose and the caribou, all of which I had
killed, and of our fishing on the long river of the north with a lure
made of the feathers of a woodpecker, and of covering the bottom of our
canoe with beautiful speckled fish. All this warmed the heart of Sir
Benjamin who questioned me as to every detail in my experience on trail
and river. He was a born sportsman and my stories had put a smile on
his face so that I felt sure he had a better feeling for