appealing to the one thing in the woods that could easily have
helped them. I was ready enough to quit all claims and to take to
the brush myself upon inducement. But the mother had found a
blueberry patch and was stuffing herself industriously.

And I have seen other mother bears since then, and foxes and deer
and ducks and sparrows, and almost all the wild creatures
between, driving their own offspring savagely away. Generally
the young go of their own accord as early as possible, knowing no
affection but only dependence, and preferring liberty to
authority; but more than once I have been touched by the sight of
a little one begging piteously to be fed or just to stay, while
the mother drove him away impatiently. Moreover, they all kill
their weaklings, as a rule, and the burdensome members of too
large a family. This is not poetry or idealization, but just
plain animal nature.

As for the male animals, little can be said truthfully for their
devotion. Father fox and wolf, instead of caring for their mates
and their offspring, as we fondly imagine, live apart by
themselves in utter selfishness. They do nothing whatever for the
support or instruction of the young, and are never suffered by
the mothers to come into the den, lest they destroy their own
little ones. One need not go to the woods to see this; his own
stable or kennel, his own dog or cat will be likely to reveal the
startling brutality at the first good opportunity.

An indiscriminate love for all animals, likewise, is not the best
sentiment to cultivate toward creation. Black snakes in a land of
birds, sharks in the bluefish rips, rabbits in Australia, and