For a minute or two Thor stood sniffing this scent that filled the air.  It was the smell of fish.

Slowly the big grizzly began picking his way along the edge of the lake.  He soon came to the mouth of a small creek.  It was not more than twenty feet wide, but it was dark and quiet and deep, like the lake itself.  For a hundred yards Thor made his way up this creek, until he came to where a number of trees had fallen across it, forming a jam.  Close to this jam the water was covered with a green scum.  Thor knew what lay under that scum, and very quietly he crept out on the logs.

Midway in the stream he paused, and with his right paw gently brushed back the scum so that an open pool of clear water lay directly under him.

Muskwa’s bright little eyes watched him from the shore.  He knew that Thor was after something to eat, but how he was going to get it out of that pool of water puzzled and interested him in spite of his weariness.

Thor stretched himself out on his belly, his head and right paw well over the jam.  He now put his paw a foot into the water and held it there very quietly.  He could see clearly to the bottom of the stream.  For a few moments he saw only this bottom, a few sticks, and the protruding end of a limb.  Then a long slim shadow moved slowly under him—­a fifteen-inch trout.  It was too deep for him, and Thor did not make an excited plunge.

Patiently he waited, and very soon this patience was rewarded.  A beautiful red-spotted trout floated out from under the scum, and so suddenly that Muskwa gave a yelp of terror, Thor’s huge paw sent a shower of water a dozen feet into the air, and the fish landed with a thump within three feet of the cub.  Instantly Muskwa was upon it.  His sharp teeth dug into it as it flopped and struggled.

Thor rose on the logs, but when he saw that Muskwa had taken possession of the fish, he resumed his former position.  Muskwa was just finishing his first real kill when a second spout of water shot upward and another trout pirouetted shoreward through the air.  This time Thor followed quickly, for he was hungry.

It was a glorious feast they had that early afternoon beside the shaded creek.  Five times Thor knocked fish out from under the scum, but for the life of him Muskwa could not eat more than his first trout.

For several hours after their dinner they lay in a cool, hidden spot close to the log-jam.  Muskwa did not sleep soundly.  He was beginning to understand that life was now largely a matter of personal responsibility with him, and his ears had begun to attune themselves to sound.  Whenever Thor moved or heaved a deep sigh, Muskwa knew it.  After that day’s Marathon with the grizzly he was filled with uneasiness—­a fear that he might lose his big friend and food-killer, and he was determined that the parent he had adopted should have no opportunity of slipping away from him unheard and unseen.  But Thor had no intention of deserting his little comrade.  In fact, he was becoming quite fond of Muskwa.