The second edition of Dave Smith's Backcountry Bear Basics, released in 2006 by The Mountaineers Books, is terrific. First published in 1997, the book really is "the most definitive guide to avoiding unpleasant encounters" since Stephen Herrero's Bear Attacks: Their Causes and Avoidance (1985) and, in some respects, it is even better.

For one thing, it is small?5 by 8 inches and 159 pages?and has a soft cover, so it is easily transported for reading in bear country, as well as advisedly beforehand. For another thing, it costs only $15.95 retail?a fair price for learning how not to become bear terrified or, worse, bear scat. But most of all, it is easily read, due in large measure to the fact that much of the coverage deals with myths and old wives tales about bear biology, senses and behavior. Even things you probably already know about bears are explained in an authoritative and interesting manner, such as grizzlies can climb trees and, on average, grizzlies (at 35-40 mph) can outrun black bears (25-30 mph), which can outrun the fastest Olympic sprinter and, more importantly, you and, more importantly, me. And there will be plenty of things you didn't know or, at least, that I didn't know, such as whistling to alert bears of one's presence is not a good idea and, contrary to the sporting magazine industry, bears actually are quite predictable.

You will know a lot more about grizzlies and black bears when you finish this little gem and what you will have learned should prevent an "unpleasant encounter" or enable you to experience more than one.

To order, go to www.mountaineersbooks.org, or write to The Mountaineers Books, 1001 SW Klickitat Way, Suite 201, Seattle, Washington 98134.

When a review copy of Scout: The Christmas Dog arrived from Texas A&M Press, I wasn't sure why I was picked to receive a children's book. The cloth-bound volume, even with illustrations by Clemente Guzman, is only 32 pages in length, after all. It took me maybe 20 minutes to read, and I am very glad I did. This tidy nonfiction work is about a female, black Labrador retriever named Scout, owned by author Andrew Sansom. Andy Sansom, incidentally, served with distinction for 11 years as Executive Director of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department. He was then and now a hunter. Scout never was, and that led to a dramatic episode that is the substance of this small book.

If you aren't a dog person, the narrative is likely to make you sad. . .sad that you haven't experienced the type of common but extraordinary bond between a human and canine pal that Andy and Scout share. For a mere $12.95, you can get a glimpse. And after you finish the book, you could give it to some children. But you won't.

To order, go to www.tamu.edu/upress/BOOKS/2006/sansom.htm, or write to Texas A&M Press, John H. Lindsey Bldg., 4354 TAMU, College Station, Texas 77843-4354.

Charles Fergus's sixteenth book is A Hunter's Book of Days (2005), published by Countrysport Press. Some may know of Chuck as the author of A Rough-Shooting Dog (1991), which is a very nice and straightforward piece of writing. This latest tome, 174 pages and quite attractively illustrated by Rod Crossman, is a fun read. It provides a window into the mindset and vocabulary of a happily addicted hunter of ruffed grouse ("there is no other sort of hunting as thrilling and challenging") and "wraithlike" American woodcock (aka bogsucker, aka timberdoodle, aka hokumpoke, aka mud bat).

It is less a book than a journal?documentation of the author's last year as a resident hunter in Pennsylvania. It details nearly all his days afield, mainly with his singing spaniel Caillie, and nearly every flush and shot. Interspersed with the action are reflections on memorable hunts of years past. There is coverage of some basic woodcock and grouse biology, just in case someone not already familiar with the species would follow Chuck through the pages and serrating flora of his specially named coverts. Also incorporated are laments of dogs gone and of habitat succession at the hand of Nature and the myopia of human sprawl. And there is some entertaining shotgun snobbery that is an affliction of every partridge-chasing aficionado.

Readers will be struck by the paradox that is hunting for most of its practitioners. The author and his occasional hunter partner, Carl, revere the very game they traipse long and hard to find and attempt to kill. They are enchanted by the birds' habits and habitats, and confounded by the dearth of their quarry. Yet, they are frustrated by those that elude them and thrilled with ones they "take." Nonhunters aren't likely to understand.

I was frequently tickled by the casual insertion of such landmine terms and expressions as "blatherskite," "cocking ground," "brace," "preternaturally cheerful," "hoofties," "cheek" (verb), "make game," "a bundle of birds," "swing the muzzles" and "supped in," to list a few. Great fun, what?

The book is light and informative, and even if you haven't avidly embraced woodcock and grouse hunting by the turn of the last page, you'll get to like the author (despite his curious posthunt, celebratory penchant for single-malt iodine rather than the healing properties of Bluegrass beverage) and his writing style.

To order A Hunter's Book of Days, go to www.countrysportpress.com, or write to Countrysport Press, PO Box 679, Camden, Maine 14843. Should you wish an autographed copy, send $32 to Charles Fergus, 276 Jones Road, East Burke, Vermont 05832.