Mekolka can tell you about the behavior of the little stint when he came upon her nest one day. It had four precious eggs in it. When the old bird found she was really discovered, she jigged about like an acrobat, squeaked like a mouse, and did everything she could to take off Mekolka's attention from the nest. As that did not work, the little bird twittered and pretended to be lame, running about as though asking to be caught; but all she wanted was that no one should notice that deep hole in the ground half full of dried birch-leaves where her four cherished eggs were laid. The little stint had been into a creek in Scotland early in June, and wanted to get back there with four chicks before the end of July. She did not want to lose those eggs and go back all that long journey without any little ones. Not that she is very kind to them after they begin to grow, for on the very earliest opportunity she kicks them out of the nest to teach them self-reliance!
Imagine that you have been for a long visit to Mekolka. Your teacher will call on some one to come to the front of the class to tell about each of the following experiences:
1. Helping Mekolka make a horn knife-handle.
You should all begin reading at the same moment. When you have finished, close your book and raise your hand. Your teacher will divide the class into three equal groups according to speed. She will ask you to write answers to the questions given at the end of the story and will appoint a committee of one pupil from each group to look the answers over and report which of the three groups has given the best answers.
Have you seen the brown bears at the Zoo? Do you remember how restlessly they walk up and down, or stand on their hind legs and wave their noses in the air? You will not wonder at it, when you read how independent a bear is at home, and how cozily he spends the long, dark winter.
It would seem that within or near the Arctic Circle Nature gives a big yawn at the end of her energetic summer, and settles down to her long winter sleep. Certainly some of her children prepare for sleep with plenty of care, especially Bruin, the big brown bear of Finland.
Even in the summer he goes sniffing round in the strong marshlands of the north or in the forests to the east. "That will make a good couch for me," he thinks, as he spies a cosy nook among some big boulders. He makes a note of the place, and goes on to look at other possible sites. He decides nothing then, but waits till the snow comes. Then the house-hunting must be undertaken seriously, and he tramps through the soft white carpet, leaving a well-marked "spoor" to tell the tale of his journeys. He is very fat after his summer feast of berries and roots, and his heavy body ploughs a deep furrow along the snow.