Two such roly-poly babies you never did see!

Mother Black Bear had named them Woof and Twinkly Eyes.—And you never in all your life met two such rollicking black balls of mischief as those two cubs!

Small wonder that Mother Black Bear needed such long black claws, long white teeth, and such a terrifying growl, with two such treasures to protect.

Why, she wouldn’t even let Father Black Bear come near them when they were so young, for fear some time they would plague him too far and make him lose his temper!

As the warm days of July ripened the blueberries along the slopes she used to lead the cubs down Mt. Olaf into the lowlands on berrying expeditions. And my! How they did enjoy these trips! How they stuffed themselves on the luscious fruit, snatching up great pawfuls of it, leaves and all, till their fuzzy sides rounded out like puff balls!

Then, too, there were often the most delicious sour-tasting ants under the logs and boulders that Mother Black Bear turned over for them! Life was one feast, what with the abundant food provided by Mother Black Bear herself and that found everywhere in the woods about them! Those cubs hadn’t a complaint to make!

True, they climbed right over one another in their eagerness to get the best of everything, and they growled little baby growls in imitation of their mother and squealed little piggish squeals of delight. But that was all a part of the game.

When there was nothing to eat in sight—or rather when they were too full to hold any more—they began to yawn and stretch and curl themselves up together like so many sleepy kittens.

Then when they had slept enough there were wrestling matches and boxing bouts and playing pranks on mother,—pulling her ears and clambering over her till she was forced to box their ears.

One lazy afternoon Twinkly was just nodding off to sleep, all curled up in a little fuzzy ball, when Woof came up from behind and gave him a shove. Now, as it happened, Twinkly had been lying at the top of a steep incline that led down to Lone Lake, and he went down that incline like a rubber ball, before ever Mother Black Bear could stop him. Bump—slide—splash!—and he plunged beneath the surface of the icy lake.