I must here tell a little story which will indicate in a measure the
sort of man Fred was. He was accustomed to traveling cross-country
freely. He was a man who could not get lost and he had no fear. He
related to me that on one of his trips when far away he was following
the shore line of a small
lake in a mushy area. The lake boundaries were vertical walls of muskeg,
overgrown with weeds. There was actually no beach. Fred heard a big
splash and an enormous bear leaped out of the water and up the bank in
one bound. The two stared at each other. The bear began advancing toward
Fred. Immediately Fred started toward the bear, who stopped and stared.
Then the process was repeated. The
bear stopped and Fred stopped. Once more, the bear advanced and Fred
advanced. By now they were very close to each other. Fred stared into
the bear's eyes. The bear glanced to the right and then to the left. He
then began to turn around, walked a few steps and broke into a gallop,
making the whole boggy area vibrate and tremble.
When Fred was a
young man in Canada there were annual snow-shoe races. They were held
crosscountry for a distance of 50 miles. Fred won the gold cup three
successive years, after which it became his to keep. In 1917 Fred
showed me this prize.