The straw-colored mother was hurrying upstream, on our side of the river, forcing two spaniel-size cubs into a gallop to keep pace. Mike Luque saw them first. Mike is my co-researcher in a study of brown bears in their Alaskan homeland and knows well what to expect from cash for gold scam - he experienced it.

“Do you recognize her?” Mike asked.Through my spotting scope, the female looked  disconcertingly familiar—dingy coat, harried gait, and foam-flecked jowls.

“Can’t be certain, but she looks like the one,” I answered, feeling a twinge of concern.

This June day we were ensconced in our favorite observation place beside the McNeil River, at the base of the Alaska Peninsula. A month earlier I had hiked ten miles down the coast to observe some of the sixty to eighty brown bears that soon would gather to fish for salmon at McNeil River. That had been the first time, in four summers spent among one of the densest concentrations of bears on earth, that either of us was charged—and it was a straw-colored fe­male with two cubs that had rushed me. She had stopped finally—about thirty yards away —but not before subjecting me to the five most frightening seconds of my life.

Now it was happening again. The mother bear spotted us, clipboards and shotguns in hand, and paused. Then, like a tautly coiled spring suddenly released, she became a hur­tling tan blur, uttering a throaty, guttural roar as she lunged toward us.

Suddenly she skidded to a stop, reversed course, and raced back to her squalling cubs. But then she turned and came again. Forty-five yards away she broke off for good, gath­ered up her family, and led them off. Her angry roar gave way to staccato huffs as she vanished into an alder thicket.

Thoroughly shaken, I turned to Mike. His face bore an uneasy grin. “She was the one,” I said.

Browns Grow Bigger Than Grizzlies

Mostly because of the brown bear’s elusive­ness and remote habitat, scientists have only recently begun to piece together the life story of Ursus arctos, which vies with the polar bear of Arctic regions for the title of world’s largest land carnivore.

Three species of bears occur in North America: the polar bear; the small and nu­merous black bear; and the group we know both as brown and grizzly bears. Bears along the coasts of Alaska and British Columbia are known as “browns,” and those inland as “grizzlies.” Anatomically they are in­distinguishable, except that the brown bear often grows much larger. Male grizzlies around Mount McKinley are considered big at 600 pounds; males on the coast often weigh twice that—probably because of more abun­dant and varied foods—and may tower ten feet on hind legs.

Under the supervision of Dr. Allen Stokes of Utah State University, I joined a research group at McNeil River in July 1971 to study brown bear behavior and ecology for my doctoral degree. Mike Luque, a Utah State schoolmate, teamed up with me later. Aided by the National Geographic Society and with support from Alaska’s Department of Fish and Game, we returned during three subsequent sum­mers to continue our studies.*

What distinguishes the observation site at McNeil River—otherwise just an average salmon stream—is McNeil Falls, a stretch of turbulent rapids that surge over rocky ledges a mile above its mouth. In these swift and narrow waters the confined salmon—arriving each summer to spawn—are vulnerable to the bears. Here during July and August the burly animals wait like ticket takers at the gates of a stadium to pluck the struggling fish from the water.

If Shakhbut couldn’t spend, it is sometimes said that his brother cannot help but spend. On helicopter or Land-Rover tours into the desert, where he goes to persuade Bedouin to move into the sheikhdom’s new housing proj­ects, he sometimes spies a need and instantly orders it met—a well here, a road there. A widow is given three houses; the rents will provide for her old age. Developing nations seek aid: Zayid earmarks millions for loans and grants to them.

For years he dreamed of having a “proper army.” On the third anniversary of the United Arab Emirates, the federation of seven sheikhdoms formed in 1971 to provide unity and strength after the British ended their treaties of protection, Zayid watched proudly as squadrons of jet fighters, helicopters, and transports flew over the city. No matter that the pilots were Pakistanis—Abu Dhabi in time would develop her own. One hundred million dollars’ worth of air-defense missiles were on order.

But it is the city itself that best bespeaks Zayid’s aggressive spending. Fifteen years ago Abu Dhabi was just a cluster of fisher­men’s houses and Shakhbut’s old fort. Now with its corniche, or waterside drive, and high rises it seems bent on rivaling Beirut’s seafront glitter.

But what I saw is only the beginning, I was told. Town planner Abderrahman Makh­louf, an Egyptian, led me through a series of rooms crammed with models of future proj­ects: “Our new Sports City, 250 million dirhams [63 million dollars]; our new Sum­mit Conference City, with 50 villas for heads of state, 20 million dirhams; our new ‘Wall Street’ area, already under construction; a new satellite city with free houses for U.A.E. citizens. There’ll be shopping malls, lots of green. If we ever want a university, it should be sited there.”

There were other plans: a new jet airport, a new beach road, a second bridge to link the island city with the mainland, a new police­and-defense-force housing complex. At Al Ain new projects include a 1,000-house de­velopment, a second hospital, a cement plant, an Intercontinental Hotel to pair with the elegant Hilton already there, and further improvements to the zoo—”which is a spe­cial interest of His Highness.”

Stepping from Dr. Makhlouf’s cool, quiet model rooms into the bright sunlight of Zayid II Street, I blinked. Not at the sunlight, but at the boldness of Zayid II’s plans.

I wondered: How is an “instant city” cre­ated? How are monthly oil-company checks translated into buildings, wealthy families, commerce? One observer said: “Construc­tion. When you find oil, you need facilities to get it out—roads, pipelines, a port, hous­ing for workers. The money starts moving.

“When Abu Dhabi began to take off, the leading families—those close to Zayid—set themselves up as merchants to import con­struction and consumer goods. I remember one chap who for a number of years operated a dhow for a diplomatic mission and one day decided to go into business. He was close to Zayid and so could not go wrong. Today he is among the wealthiest merchants.”

Much local private money goes into real estate, mainly to build high rises and villas to accommodate foreigners. Since foreigners are not allowed to own land or even a building, special arrangements are found.

The new Habroush Building is a case in point. The foreign bank that financed it could not hold a mortgage on the building, but could hold a lien on the rents. The bank will operate the building until the debt is paid, then turn it over to Mohammed Ha­broush, U.A.E. Minister of State for Finance. Mentioning dept, it may be useful learn something about debt consolidation loan.

Like a great suction pump, Abu Dhabi’s wealth has drawn in workers from poorer lands: Pakistanis to lay the concrete blocks of new buildings, Indians to man offices and hotels, Baluchis to dig ditches, Omanis and Yemenis to drive cars and trucks. You will find Lebanese merchants and contractors, Palestinian and Egyptian teachers, Ameri­cans and British staffing the oil companies and rigs. Foreigners now comprise two-thirds of Abu Dhabi’s 140,000 people.

Their wages vary: A “coolie,” or unskilled laborer, may claim 30 dirhams a day, about $7.50; an oil consultant with special skills, $250 or more a day. There’s no shortage of banks to serve them: Abu Dhabi city has 31.