The big grizzly was still puzzled.  Not only was he struggling against an unaccountable dislike of all cubs in general, but also against the firmly established habits of ten years of aloneness.  Yet he was beginning to comprehend that there was something very pleasant and companionable in the nearness of Muskwa.  With the coming of man a new emotion had entered into his being—­perhaps only the spark of an emotion.  Until one has enemies, and faces dangers, one cannot fully appreciate friendship—­and it may be that Thor, who now confronted real enemies and a real danger for the first time, was beginning to understand what friendship meant.  Also it was drawing near to his mating season, and about Muskwa was the scent of his mother.  And so as Muskwa continued to bask and dream in the sunshine, there was a growing content in Thor.

He looked down into the valley, shimmering in the wet of the night’s rain, and he saw nothing to rouse discontent; he sniffed the air, and it was filled with the unpolluted sweetness of growing grass, of flowers, and balsam, and water fresh from the clouds.

Thor began to lick his wound, and it was this movement that roused Muskwa.  The cub lifted his head.  He blinked at the sun for a moment—­then rubbed his face sleepily with his tiny paw and stood up.  Like all youngsters, he was ready for another day, in spite of the hardships and toil of the preceding one.

While Thor still lay restfully looking down into the valley, Muskwa began investigating the crevices in the rock wall, and tumbled about among the boulders on the ledge.

From the valley Thor turned his eyes to the cub.  There was curiosity in his attitude as he watched Muskwa’s antics and queer tumblings among the rocks.  Then he rose cumbrously and shook himself.

For at least five minutes he stood looking down into the valley, and sniffing the wind, as motionless as though carven out of rock.  And Muskwa, perking up his little ears, came and stood beside him, his sharp little eyes peering from Thor off into sunlit space, and then back to Thor again, as if wondering what was about to happen next.

The big grizzly answered the question.  He turned along the rock shelf and began descending into the valley.  Muskwa tagged behind, just as he had followed the day before.  The cub felt twice as big and fully twice as strong as yesterday, and he no longer was obsessed by that uncomfortable yearning for his mother’s milk.  Thor had graduated him quickly, and he was a meat-eater.  And he knew they were returning to where they had feasted last night.

They had descended half the distance of the slope when the wind brought something to Thor.  A deep-chested growl rolled out of him as he stopped for a moment, the thick ruff about his neck bristling ominously.  The scent he had caught came from the direction of his cache, and it was an odour which he was not in a humour to tolerate in this particular locality.  Strongly he smelled the presence of another bear.  This would not have excited him under ordinary conditions, and it would not have excited him now had the presence been that of a female bear.  But the scent was that of a he-bear, and it drifted strongly up a rock-cut ravine that ran straight down toward the balsam patch in which he had hidden the caribou.