Bears.
The bears seem to know when the salmon arrive as well as the human beings do. They leave their homes in the woods and make their way down to the quiet little coves along the shore. When the fish come crowding in, out go the bears’ paws into the water, scooping in the salmon of which they are so fond. Mr. Bruin swallows one after another until he has had his fill; then he creeps away as quietly as he came, to seek safety once more among the trees of the forest. Sometimes, alas, the white hunter discovers the trail and follows the bear to the shore. Then bang! bang! sounds through the air and Bruin’s salmon feasts are over.
There are many bears in Alaska,—black, cinnamon, and in the far north the dangerous grizzly; but the red boy’s father teaches him that it is best not to kill these animals. He has an idea that the bear’s spirit will be angry and harm him if he does so. The white traders, however, want the skins and are willing to pay a good price for them, so the Indians sometimes go bear hunting, although after they meet with success, they go through strange rites, hoping thus to make peace with the bear’s spirit.