Another time I was camping in Maine. Not far from our tent, which we
had cunningly concealed on a little knoll near the edge of a lonely
lake, I found a tiny brook which trickled down a hillside. Although it
ran through dense underbrush, it was possible to fish it, and every
afternoon I would bring back half a dozen jeweled trout to broil for
supper. One day I had gone farther in than usual, and was standing
silently, up to my waist in water and brush, trying to cast over an
exasperating bush into a little pool beyond. Suddenly I smelt bear.
Not far from me there sounded a very faint crackling in the bushes on
a little ridge, about as loud as a squirrel would make. As I leaned
forward to look, my knee came squarely against a nest of enthusiastic
and able-bodied yellow-jackets. Instantly a cloud of them burst over
me like shrapnel, stinging my unprotected face unendurably. As I
struck at them with my hand, I caught just one glimpse of a patch of
black fur through the brush on the ridge above me. The next second my
hand struck my eye-glasses, and they went spinning into the brush,
lost forever, and I was stricken blind. Thereafter I dived and hopped
like a frog through the brush and water, until I came out beyond that
yellow-jacket barrage. I never saw that bear again. Probably he
laughed himself to death.
The blackbear is undoubtedly leather-lined, for he will dig up and eat
the bulbs of the jack-in-the-pulpit, which affect a human tongue--I
speak from knowledge--like a mixture of nitric acid and powdered
glass. Moreover, he is the only animal which can swallow the
tight-rolled green cigars of the skunk-cabbage in the early spring. An
entry in my nature-notes reads as follows:--
"Only a fool or a bear would taste skunk-cabbage."
My lips were blistered and my tongue swollen when I wrote it. The fact
that the blackbear and the blackcat or fisher are the only two mammals
which can eat Old Man Quill-Pig, alias porcupine, and swallow his
quills, confirms my belief as to the bear's lining. The dog, the lynx,
the wild cat, and the wolf have all tried--and died.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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