it in all details. But under this effort his brain flashed clear; and with a jump of his heart he realized exactly where he was. The trained prudence of the woodsman, however, saved that jump of the heart from translating itself to the muscle. For a moment he felt a chill of fear. Very softly he felt for his rifle. Yes, there it was, close at his side, where he had let go of it in order to feed more greedily. He relinquished it again at once, with a curious qualm as if he had been caught in an act of treachery. At least, there was no need of doing anything detestable for the moment. The furry pillow beneath his head was heaving so slowly that he knew the bear was sound asleep. The cub, too, no longer nursing, was asleep. He touched it, and its little paws were folded over its nose. Then he noticed a slight chilly feeling on the back of his head and neck. He felt the place with his hand, and realized that the bear had recently been licking him. She had licked the hair firmly in the wrong direction, and left it moist. At this evidence of the great beast's complacency towards his intruding helplessness, when she might so easily—and justly—have crunched his neck with one lazy snap of her jaws, a wave of gratitude surged up in his heart, followed by a spasm of disgust as he thought of the hateful deed to which he should probably be driven. Every fibre of him now shrank from such a deed. Perhaps
