us, and when we rounded the headland, we saw that he and Wood had headed, and were driving him towards a small island, of less than half an acre, covered only with low bushes, half a mile down the lake.  We did not propose to harm him, but we intended to drive him upon that little island, and by surrounding it, keep him there for a while by way of experimenting upon his fears, or rather as Martin said, “to see what he would do.”  As he approached the shore, he bounded upon the island, and tossing his head from side to side, as if looking for a place of concealment or escape.  Finding none, he dashed across to the opposite side and plunged into the lake.  He was met by the Doctor and Smith, and turned back.  He rushed in another direction, across the island, to be headed by the boat in which I was seated, and again in another direction to be headed by Spalding.  Thus met and driven back at every turn, he at last stationed himself on a high knoll, near the centre of the island, apparently expecting that the last struggle for life was to be made there.  We rested upon our oars, making no noise, and watching his movements.  The bushes were low, coming only up midside to the animal.  He watched us latently for half an hour, tossing his head up and down, looking first at one, then at another, as if calculating from which the attack upon his life was to come.  At last, as if overcome by weariness, or concluding that after all there was no real danger, he laid quietly down.  In answer to his confidence in the harmlessness of our intentions, we rowed away back to the island where we started him.  We had not reached it, however, when we saw him enter the water, and swim to the main land, and glad enough he seemed to be when he had regained the protection of his native forests.

We took our dogs from the island, and rowed to the broad channel of the inlet which enters the lake on the left hand side, as you look to the south.  There are two of these inlets, which enter within a quarter of a mile of each other, each of which comes down from little lakes, or ponds, deeper in the wilderness.  The one we entered flows in a tortuous course through a natural meadow, stretching away on either hand forty or fifty rods, to a dense forest of spruce, maple, and beech, above which gigantic pines stand stately 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