sticky syrup, broke open a flour barrel with 
     
     one stroke of the paw and then rolled about 
     
     in the flour until he looked like a polar bear. 
     
    

    
     An Indian without a gun was 
     
     once chased by an infuriated she- 
     
     bear, whose cub he had stolen. His 
     
     only refuge was a hollow tree, down 
     
     which he lowered himself with the 
     
     cub. The old bear descended bear 
     
     fashion, tail first. The Indian seized 
     
     her by the stumpy tail, whereupon he 
     
     was drawn to the top, and giving the bear a thrust off, remained 
     
     on top of the stump, master of the situation. 
     
    

    
     A bear caught in a trap 0n the Patapedia by an Indian was 
     
     met by the hunter, marching around with the trap on one foot 
     
     and shouldering the pole to which it was attached, biting savagely 
     
     at the knots and boughs of trees he passed and inflicting terrible 
     
     wounds on the defenceless wood. Knowing there was a bounty of 
     
     three dollars a bear on the New Brunswick side of the boundary, 
     
     the Indian succeeded in driving him across the dividing brook. 
     
     This done, he shot him and got his bounty. 
     
    

    
     Another wily Indian cut off the snouts of two large New— 
     
     foundland dogs, and producing them to the magistrate demanded 
     
     the bounty money. Being asked for the customary oath, he said, 
     
     ‘Swear me in Indian, me no understand English well.’ ‘All right,‘ 
     
     said the unsuspecting justice. The guileless Indian then swore in 
     
     the Indian tongue that he had killed two large black dogs—and 
     
     pocketed the six dollars. 
     
    

    
     A story showing the humor of a Maliceet Indian, who was a 
     
     great snuff-taker, is the following : “One time I go huntem moose, 
     
     might come dark, rain and snow come fast; no axe for makum wig- 
     
     wam; gun wet, no get um fire; me bery tired, me crawl into large 
     
     hollow tree; I find plenty room, almost begin sleep. By-and-by me 
     
     f‘eelum hot wind blow on my face, me know hot bear's breath. He 
     
     crawl into log too; I takeum gun, she no go; I think me all same, 
     
     gone, all eat up. Then me thinkum my old snuff-box. I take some 
     
     snuff and throw ’em in bear's face, and he run out, not very much 
     
     likeum. I guess me lay still all night, he no come again. Every 
     
     little while, bear he go O-me sneezum, over and over, great many 
     
     times. Morning come, me fixeum gun and shoot ’em dead; he no 
     
     more sneezum, no more this time.” 
     
    
   
   
    
        
     
         
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
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