In that big world of green and golden colours he was a little black ball nearly as wide as he was long.  He went down to the creek, and looked back.  He could still see his mother.  Then his feet paddled in the soft white sand of a long bar that edged the shore, and he forgot Noozak.  He went to the end of the bar, and turned up on the green shore where the young grass was like velvet under his paws.  Here he began turning over small stones for ants.  He chased a chipmunk that ran a close and furious race with him for twenty seconds.  A little later a huge snow-shoe rabbit got up almost under his nose, and he chased that until in a dozen long leaps Wapoos disappeared in a thicket.  Neewa wrinkled up his nose and emitted a squeaky snarl.  Never had Soominitik’s blood run so riotously within him.  He wanted to get hold of something.  For the first time in his life he was yearning for a scrap.  He was like a small boy who the day after Christmas has a pair of boxing gloves and no opponent.  He sat down and looked about him querulously, still wrinkling his nose and snarling defiantly.  He had the whole world beaten.  He knew that.  Everything was afraid of his mother.  Everything was afraid of him.  It was disgusting—­this lack of something alive for an ambitious young fellow to fight.  After all, the world was rather tame.

He set off at a new angle, came around the edge of a huge rock, and suddenly stopped.

From behind the other end of the rock protruded a huge hind paw.  For a few moments Neewa sat still, eyeing it with a growing anticipation.  This time he would give his mother a nip that would waken her for good!  He would rouse her to the beauty and the opportunities of this day if there was any rouse in him!  So he advanced slowly and cautiously, picked out a nice bare spot on the paw, and sank his little teeth in it to the gums.

There followed a roar that shook the earth.  Now it happened that the paw did not belong to Noozak, but was the personal property of Makoos, an old he-bear of unlovely disposition and malevolent temper.  But in him age had produced a grouchiness that was not at all like the grandmotherly peculiarities of old Noozak.  Makoos was on his feet fairly before Neewa realized that he had made a mistake.  He was not only an old bear and a grouchy bear, but he was also a hater of cubs.  More than once in his day he had committed the crime of cannibalism.  He was what the Indian hunter calls uchan—­a bad bear, an eater of his own kind, and the instant his enraged eyes caught sight of Neewa he let out another roar.

At that Neewa gathered his fat little legs under his belly and was off like a shot.  Never before in his life had he run as he ran now.  Instinct told him that at last he had met something which was not afraid of him, and that he was in deadly peril.  He made no choice of direction, for now that he had made this mistake he had no idea where he would find his mother.  He could hear Makoos coming after