One lazy afternoon Twinkly was just nodding off to sleep, all curled up in a little fuzzy ball, when Woof came up from behind and gave him a shove. Now, as it happened, Twinkly had been lying at the top of a steep incline that led down to Lone Lake, and he went down that incline like a rubber ball, before ever Mother Black Bear could stop him. Bump—slide—splash!—and he plunged beneath the surface of the icy lake. [Illustration: [Bears]] II MOTHER BLACK BEAR TO THE RESCUE It is so wonderfully snug and comfy to be drowsing off on a warm afternoon, all curled up in a fuzzy little ball. So, at least, thought Twinkly Eyes, Mother Black Bear’s littlest cub. But what an awful contrast to find oneself rolling down the bank like a rubber ball, till one came, bump, slide, splash, to the icy water! And then to go down, down, down, gasping for breath and so horribly frightened that one thought the end had come! It was certainly a terrible experience for the five-months-old cub, when his brother Woof gave him that mischievous shove! Mother Black Bear was really frightened. Not that she was afraid of Lone Lake—not a good swimmer like Mother Black Bear; and not that she feared being unable to rescue the little fellow. But Mothers are always frightened when anything happens to their babies. Mother Black Bear was no exception. She was just like any other mother in believing that her babies were the brightest and the handsomest and the most wonderful little creatures that anyone ever had. So she didn’t even stop to think when she saw Twinkly’s little body rolling down the bank with its legs still wound around its nose. She just slid!—Afterwards there was a long trench where she had slid down that bank on her haunches! She reached the water the very moment he did, and it wasn’t two seconds before she had plunged into the blue depths and grabbed the struggling youngster by the nape of his neck. Dragging him straight back up the bank, she spread him out in the sunshine and began licking him dry, while he whimpered and coaxed for sympathy. “This teaches you a lesson, young man,” she told him, when she had made sure he wasn’t hurt and wasn’t going to catch cold. “Never sleep on the edge of a bank. And Woof, don’t you ever again shove anyone over the bank like that,—not unless it’s someone you never want to see again,” and she gave Woof a good cuff on the ear to help him remember. “But I’m glad, in one way, that this had to happen. Because it shows that you must learn to swim at once. Life is uncertain at best, in the woods, and you never can tell when you may need to know.” “Ow! the water is too cold!” squealed Twinkly Eyes, backing away into the brush. “We’ll go where it isn’t,” said Mother Black Bear firmly. “But we’re going this very afternoon. Come along!” [Illustration: [Bears]] III A STERN LESSON