Queer birds squawked in the thick reeds.

It was heavy with a strange odour--a fragrance of something that made the cub lick his little chops, and filled him with hunger.
For a minute or two Thor stood sniffing this scent that filled the air.

It was the smell of fish.
Slowly the big grizzly began picking his way along the edge of the lake.
He soon came to the mouth of a small creek.

It was not more than twenty feet wide, but it was dark and quiet and deep, like the lake itself.

For a hundred yards Thor made his way up this creek, until he came to where a number of trees had fallen across it, forming a jam.