Henry did not believe that the animal had seen him or was yet aware of his presence, although he might suspect.

There was something humorous and also pathetic in the visitor, who cocked his head on one side and looked about him.

He made a distinct appeal to Henry, who sat absolutely still, so still that the little bear could not be sure at first that he was a human being.
A minute passed, and the red eye of the bear rested upon the boy.

Henry felt pleasant and sociable, but he knew that he could retain friendly relations only by remaining quiet.
"If I have eaten your comrade, my friend," he said to himself, "it is only because of hard necessity." The bear, little, comic, and yet with that touch of pathos about him, cocked his head a little further over on one side, and as a silver shaft of moonlight fell upon him Henry could see one red eye gleaming.

It was a singular fact, but the boy, alone in the wilderness, and the loser of his comrades, felt for the moment a sense of comradeship with the bear, which was also alone, and doubtless the loser of a comrade, also.