The Bear feeds chiefly on roots, berries, and other vegetables; it has also a fondness for Ants, and a perfect passion for honey, in the capture of which he is often severely stung about the nose--almost his only vulnerable part--by the infuriated inhabitants of the comb. He also preys upon small quadrupeds, and sometimes--especially when fully adult--on larger ones. He is occasionally bold enough to attack the Bull, but is, as often as not, worsted in the encounter. He rarely attacks man, unless provoked, and then, when his blood is up, is a most dangerous antagonist. His mode of attack is peculiarly his own. He does not fell his victim with a blow of his paw like one of the larger Cats, or seize it at once with his teeth like a Dog, but “gives it the hug”--embraces it tightly, and with a great show of affection, with its powerful fore limbs, and continues the squeeze until the wretched animal is suffocated. The female Bear, especially when her family is about, is a particularly ferocious creature. Her savageness is, indeed, proverbial; she is devoted to her cubs, and any one threatening their safety does so at his own peril. The Bear is not only an affectionate mother, but is capable of a very firm friendship, as the following anecdote, related by Mr. Andersson,[140] shows. He tells us that, amongst a collection of animals he possessed “were two Brown Bears--twins--somewhat more than a year old, and playful as kittens when together. Indeed, no greater punishment could be inflicted upon these beasts than to disunite them, for however short a time. Still, there was a marked contrast in their dispositions: one of them was good-tempered and gentle as a lamb, while the other frequently exhibited signs of a sulky and treacherous character. Tempted by an offer for the purchase of the former of these animals, I consented, after much hesitation, to his being separated from his brother. “It was long before I forgave myself this act. On the following day, on my proceeding, as usual, to inspect the collection, one of the keepers ran up to me, in the greatest haste, exclaiming, ‘Sir, I am glad you are come, for your Bear has gone mad!’ He then told me that during the night the beast had destroyed his den, and was found in the morning roaming wild about the garden. Luckily, the keeper managed to seize him just as he was escaping into the country, and, with the help of several others, succeeded in shutting him up again. The Bear, however, refused his food, and raved in so fearful a manner that, unless he could be quieted, it was clear he would do mischief.