dence of his
nose, a bee flew by, followed by another and another, all winging their
way back to the hive. The red gleam faded from Mokwa's eyes as he
followed their flight; then he broke into a shuffling run as he came
within sight of the tree to which the bees were converging from all
directions.

About half way up the great trunk Mokwa's eyes discovered a hole which
he knew at once to be the mouth of the hive. He quickly climbed the tree
on the side opposite the hole, peering cautiously around until he had
reached a point directly opposite the hive. Then, craftily reaching one
paw around the tree, with his claws he ripped off a great section of
bark, disclosing a mass of bees and reeking comb.

At once the bees seemed to go mad. Their angry buzzing filled the air,
but failed to strike terror to the heart of the robber. His thick fur
rendered him immune to their fiery darts, though he was careful to
protect his one vulnerable spot, the tender tip of his nose. In another
moment he would have been enjoying the feast had he not discovered
something which caused the hair to rise along his back and his eyes to
glow with hate.

Advancing from the opposite direction was another bear, a bear larger
than Mokwa and scarred with the evidences of many battles, a bear who
trod the forest with a calm air of ownership. Across Mokwa's mind
flashed the memory of a certain tree with his own signature the highest
save one. The owner of that one was now approaching with the evident
intention of claiming the sweet prize.

Mokwa's anger rose. He scrambled from the tree and, with a savage roar,
was upon his rival almost before the latter had become aware of his
presence. And then occurred a memorable battle, a battle for sovereignty
and the freedom of the trails. Mokwa's rival was the larger of the two,
but Mokwa had the advantage of youth. Sounds of the fray penetrated far
into the woods. Delicate flowers and vigorous young saplings were
trampled underfoot; timid little wild creatures watched with fast
beating hearts, ready for instant retreat should they be observed, while
above their heads the bees were busy carrying the exposed honey to a
safer hiding-place.

Back and forth the combatants surged. For a time it was impossible to
judge to whom the victory would go; but at length youth began to tell.
The older bear was pushed steadily back. At last, torn and bleeding, his
breath coming in laboring gasps, he turned and beat a retreat,