United States or French Southern Territories ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"You miserable Bruin, you don't know what's good for you; you can't tell a light-wood from a gum-tree, and you'll die of starvation, or else the boys will find you, and they will kill you, thinking you are a wild bush bear, for you don't show any signs of good education, after all the trouble I have taken to teach you manners. I am afraid you will come to a bad end." And so he did.
So an hour passed. At the end of that time the situation remained unchanged. The unfortunate Yankee was getting hungry, as well as tired of his somewhat constrained position. Bears probably have more patience than the human family, for Bruin had scarcely moved, except occasionally to wag his great head.
When Black Bruin awoke from his long sleep, stretched himself, and sallied forth into the open world, the first faint touch of red was appearing upon the soft maples. Buds upon the other trees had not started and there were yet suggestions of the chill of melting snow-banks upon the air.
Fortunately, the great glare of the sun-smitten snow dazzled Bruin; he advanced slowly, roaring savagely, but staring rather blindly before him out of his small, evil-looking eyes. Suddenly, when he was but a few yards distant, he raised his great paw, as if to rub away the cobwebs that obscured his sight. It was the moment for which the boy had waited. Now he had a clear aim!
"He takes aim at Mr. Bear's chin and misses it three times runnin', he's that excited. "'Settle down, H'Anglish, says I. 'He 'ain't got no double chins. How many shells left in your gun? "When he looks he finds there's only one more, for he hadn't stopped to fill the magazine, so I cautions him. "'You're shootin' too low. Raise her. "He raised her all right, and caught Mr. Bruin in the snout.
A gentle howl from Miss G. was the only reply, as the party hastily retreated; for she recognized in the dirty, degraded beast, who was presiding over this vulgar sport, the object she had once looked on with affection, the once wealthy Count von Bruin.
Pouchskin started off to procure a pole. The others kept guard still holding their guns in readiness, lest the bear might make a rush in Pouchskin's absence. But Bruin had no such intention; nor was his presence betrayed by sight or sound, until Pouchskin came back. He had cut a pole with his axe, and had taken the precaution to select a long one.
Any horse of good speed could round up a heavy old man, and then he made for the nearest gum tree, and stood at bay with his back to it. It was dangerous for man or dog to attack him in front, for with his long hind claws he could cut like a knife. Philip's family began to desert him. Bruin, as already stated, sneaked away and was killed by Hugh Boyle.
He gauged his rate of progress on a close estimate. Along the trail sped bruin. Andy put across the fields. He heard a bell ring out. Glancing back at the farmhouse, he saw a human arm reaching through an open window. It pulled at a rope leading to a big alarm bell hanging from the eaves.
He was careful to keep out of sight, however, and a short time later had the satisfaction of seeing them disappear in the woods, Mother Bruin in the lead and the cubs as usual trotting dutifully behind. The male cub's thrilling ride and battle with the current had for the time being subdued his adventurous spirit.
Word Of The Day