CHAPTER XII

IN THE RAVEN’S NEST

That winter was a mild one, and though Mother Cinnamon Bear slept most

of it away in the den among the rocks, she wouldn’t let the cubs come

with her. Ever since she had gone off on that trip without them, she had

left them more and more to their own devices, till now she told them

plainly that they must find themselves a place to hibernate. Snookie

found another den just big enough for herself, and lined it with pine

needles to make it soft and warm. Chinook preferred a hollow tree, from

which hung great clusters of gray-green mistletoe with its wax-white

berries. Several times they had crossed the trail of Cougar, the

mountain lion, and he was glad to find a hole into which he himself

could barely squeeze, and high enough above ground that Cougar wouldn’t

be likely to notice it as he went by. There he would sleep for a

while—say, several weeks, longer if it turned too cold—then he would

sally forth for a few mice. But he found he hadn’t much of an appetite

when he didn’t exercise.

It was not till April that the cubs learned why Mother Brown Bear had

thought the old cave would be crowded.

There were two new little brown bears and a black one, and their mother

wouldn’t let anyone so rough as the yearling cubs come near the helpless

mites. For when the new baby brothers and sister had been born, they had

been no larger than long-legged, cocker-spaniel babies and not half so

well clothed. Even when they were two months old they were barely strong

enough to follow their mother when she went out for mushrooms.

“Huh! They’re no good!” decided Snookie and Chinook. “We can have more

fun by ourselves.”

They couldn’t remember that they too, just a twelve-month ago, had been

blind and helpless, and no end of nuisance.

It was along in May that Snookie took a notion to explore the cliff wall

high above the foaming waters of the swollen river. Chinook preferred to

stay down by the river spearing the salmon who came leaping over the

falls and swimming upstream against the rapids to lay their eggs in the

shallows, where the newly hatched fish would be safer than they would

have been in the ocean.

Snookie, reaching the wind-swept edge of the canyon wall where nothing

but twisted mountain pines and junipers could keep their foothold, found

the dwarfed trees flattened out to leeward of the wind that blew

steadily from off the broad Pacific. The little bear found that she

could walk right on top of the low-flung branches, so closely were they

matted from years of clinging together for mutual protection. Some of

these sturdy dwarfed and ancient trees grew so low and so rooflike that

Snookie could barely stand upright under the canopy they made. It was a

wonderful place to play.

A mammoth bird’s nest had been tucked away in a cranny of the rocks,

right on the canyon rim, and at first a great black bird sat on it. By

and by Snookie saw that the great black bird was gone and that a black

speck winged its way down to the river. This seemed like a good time to

inspect that nest. She found five delicious tasting eggs, and she had

just finished her meal and was trying to lick the egg from her chin,

when the great bird came back. It was Mrs. Raven, and my, what threats

and insults she did screech at Snookie! At her cries Mr. Raven, too,

appeared and joined in the clamor. (And all this time their visitor was

too surprised to think.) Then the mother bird was upon her, beating her

with her wings. The little bear hid her eyes, but her ears were still

exposed, and she gave a squeal of protest, for they would have driven

her right over the canyon rim, and Snookie had no wings. Then the father

raven pecked a beakful of fur right out of the middle of her back.

Suddenly the little bear remembered the tunnels of dwarf pine trees just

above, and making a blind dash for them, with the birds still beating

her, she crawled under this shelter, where the ravens could not follow.

My, but she was a sore little bear! But here she was, at any rate, safe,

if not altogether sound, and she told herself she knew something about

ravens that Chinook hadn’t learned. Besides, those eggs certainly were

delicious, she comforted herself, as she curled up to sleep off her

troubles.

Chinook, the Cinnamon Cub · 第 12 / 20 章