ely and tall in their
pride. Three miles from the lake, the hills approach each other, and
the little river comes plunging down through a gorge, over shelving
rocks, and around great boulders, as if mad with the obstructions
piled up in its way.

As we approached these falls, Smith, who sat in the bow of the boat,
motioned to the boatman to lay upon his oars, and pointed to an object
partly concealed by some low bushes, forty or fifty rods in advance
of us. Remaining perfectly still a moment, we saw a bear step out upon
a boulder, look up and down the stream, and stretch his long nose out
over the water, as if looking for a good place to cross the rapids.
After scratching his ear with one of his hind feet, and his side with
the other, he turned and walked deliberately from our sight into the
forest. By this time, the boat with the dogs came in sight, and we
beckoned its occupants to come to us. One of the hounds only had ever
seen game of this kind. But Cullen declared that there was no game
that they would not follow when once fairly laid on. We wanted that
bear. It was the only one we had seen; indeed it was the only one I
had ever seen wild in the forest. We went to the spot where we last
saw him, and there in the sand, by the side of the boulder, was his
great track, almost like a human foot. Cullen called the attention of
the dogs to it, and hallooed them on. They took the scent cheerfully,
and with a united and fierce cry they dashed away in pursuit. They had
ran but a short distance, when they seemed to become stationary, and
deep, quick baying succeeded the lengthened and ringing sound of
their voices.

"Treed, by Moses!" cried Cullen, as he dashed forward, the rest of us
following as fast as we could.

"Not too fast," said Martin, "not too fast. There's no hurry; he won't
come down unless our noise frightens him. Let us go quietly; there's
plenty of time. Belcher has got his eye on him, and will stay by him
till we come." We travelled quietly, and as silently as we could for
near half a mile, and as we rounded a low but steep point of a hill,
there sat bruin, some twelve rods from us, in the forks of a great
birch tree, forty feet from the ground, looking down in calm dignity
upon the dogs that were baying and leaping up against the tree beneath
him. Did anybody ever notice what a meek, innocent look a bear has
when in repose? How hypocritically he leers upon everything about him,
as if butter would not mel