Transcriber’s Note
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THE LIFE STORY OF
A BLACK BEAR
BY
H. PERRY ROBINSON
LONDON
ADAM·&·CHARLES·BLACK
1913
FOREWORD
There is always tragedy when man invades the solitudes of theearth, for his coming never fails to mean the destruction of thewild things. But, surely, nowhere can the pathos be greater thanwhen, in the western part of North America, there is a discoveryof new gold-diggings. Then from all points of the compass mencome pouring into the mountains with axe and pick, gold-pan andrifle, breaking paths through the forest wildernesses, killing anddriving before them the wild animals that have heretofore heldthe mountains for their own.
Here in these rocky, tree-clad fastnesses the bears have kingedit for centuries, ruling in right of descent for generation aftergeneration, holding careless dominion over the coyote and thebeaver, the wapiti, the white-tailed and the mule-eared deer.Except for the occasional rebellion of a mutinous lieutenant of apuma, there has been none to dispute their lordship from year toyear and century to century. Each winter they have laid themselvesdown (or sat themselves up—for a bear does not lie downwhen hibernating) to sleep through the bitter months, in easyassurance that when they awoke they would find the sceptre stillby their side.
But a spring comes when they issue from their winter lairsand new sounds are borne to them on the keen, resin-scentedmountain air. The hills ring to the chopping of axes; and thevoices of men—a new and terrible sound—reach their ears. Theearth, soft with the melting snows, shows unaccustomed prints ofheavy heels. The coyote and the deer and all the forest folkhave gone; the beaver-dams are broken, and the builders vanished.
Dimly wondering at the strangeness of it all, the bears goforth, blundering and half awake, down the new-made pathways,not angry, but curious and perplexed, and by the trail-side theymeet man—man with a rifle in his hand. And, still not angry,still only wondering and fearing nothing—for are they not lordsof all the mountain-si