In hunting the Polar Bear the Eskimos usually pursue them with dogs and having surrounded them, kill them with spears and harpoons, while they fight the dogs. In the water the Polar Bear is generally able to escape by swimming and diving and often it happens that by his strength and quickness he overturns boats and mangles the occupants before they can be rescued. The skin and fat of the Polar Bear are more valued by the natives of the north than his flesh, which is both fibrous and strong in flavor. The members of various arctic expeditions have been glad to eat it, however, Dr. Kane in particular, having had his life and that of his comrades preserved for some time by the meat from the carcass of a great bear, which fell into a trap baited simply with an old and greasy stocking. Whenever possible his men shot the bears on the ice, and many pathetic scenes were witnessed by them when the mothers of cubs were killed or when the cubs being slain, their mother refused to leave their bodies, even when wounded. So great is the affection of these bears for each other that when one of a pair is killed the mate remains by the body, fondling and caressing it and trying to tempt it by food and endearments to rise again. It has always been very difficult to keep Polar Bears in confinement, on account of the heat and lack of swimming facilities. The great bears at Bronx Park in New York City are probably the happiest in captivity; with a great pool to swim in, rocks to climb and a deep cave down into the cool heart of a granite rock, where they can always retire and go into cold storage. Their happiness is largely due to the ingenuity and kindliness of William T. Hornaday, the director, who probably understands better what an animal wants than any man in America. But after he had provided everything that a well-regulated bear might desire, he was distressed to see his pets idle and sulking, taking no exercise and declining to utilize any of the facilities except the cold storage department. It was at this crisis that Mr. Hornaday heard from some whalers that in the arctic lands Polar Bears had been seen to play with small boulders by the hour. At once he gave his pets a small boulder and immediately all changed. They pushed, they fought and struggled, rolled the stone up hill and down hill, threw it into the pool and dived for it—and have been happy ever since. They had been like children in a fine house, but with nothing to play with. Dane Coolidge. O, beautiful world of gold! When waving grain is ripe, And apples beam Through the hazy gleam, And quails on the fence rails pipe; With pattering nuts and winds,—why then, How swiftly falls the white again! —G. Cooper, “’Round the Year.” Transcriber’s Notes --Created an eBook cover from elements within the issue.