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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
102
Thor's
wanderings
extended
farther
in
search
of
the
things
which
always
came
as
surprises
however
much
he
was
looking
for
them.
Many
days
were
blanks
and
others
would
be
crowded
with
incidents,
for
unexpectedness
is
above
all
the
peculiar
feature
of
hunting,
and
its
lasting
charm.
One
day
he
had
gone
far
beyond
the
ridge
in
a
new
direction
and
passed
through
an
open
glade
where
lay
the
broken
trunk
of
a
huge
basswood.
The
size
impressed
it
on
his
memory.
He
swung
past
the
glade
to
make
for
the
lake,
a
mile
to
the
west,
and
twenty
minutes
later
he
started
back
as
his
eye
rested
on
a
huge
black
animal
in
the
crotch
of
a
hemlock,
some
thirty
feet
from
the
ground.
A
Bear!
At
last,
this
was
the
test
of
nerve
he
had
half
expected
all
summer;
had
been
wondering
how
that
mystery
"himself"
would
act
under
this
very
trial.
He
stood
still;
his
right
hand
dived
into
his
pocket
and,
bringing
out
three
or
four
buckshot,
which
he
carried
for
emergency,
he
dropped
them
on
top
of
the
birdshot
already
in
the
gun,
then
rammed
a
wad
to
hold
them
down.
The
Bear
had
not
moved
and
the
boy
could
not
see
its
head,
but
now
he
studied
it
carefully.
It
was
not
such
a
large
one--no,
it
was
a
small
one,
yes,
very
small--a
cub.
A
cub!
That
meant
a
mother
Bear
at
hand,
and
Thor
looked
about
with
some
fear,
but
seeing
no
signs
of
any
except
the
little
one,
he
levelled
the
gun
and
fired.
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