A BEAR'S STORY.
WAS born in the wild woods of Michigan, and my home was in a large hollow tree which stood near the Muskegon River. There I lived with my mother and sister.
I was a careless young cub, and one day, when at play on the river-side, I went too near the steep bank, fell over it, and went down splash into the water. It was very deep, and there was a strong current. I had never been taught to swim. I was in such a fright that I could not even cry for help.
The water was choking me, and I was nearly drowned, when a kind log came floating by to my rescue. It seemed like a friend sent from home. I scrambled to the top of it, bade good-by to my sister, who stood crying on the bank, and went drifting down the river.
Before long two queer-looking objects came toward me, paddling along in a sort of hollow log. Seeing plainly that they were not bears, I felt much afraid of them. My mother had often talked to me about some fierce creatures called "men," and had told me always to keep out of their way.
I felt sure that these were men; but how could I get out of their way when I was adrift on a log? They came right down upon me, and there I sat, whining and crying and trembling. "What were these dreadful men made for?" thought I. "Why can they not leave us poor bears in peace?"
I fully expected to be killed. But, instead of killing me, one of the men took me in his arms, and held me till we came to the shore. Then I wanted to go back to my mother, and I tried to get away. But he held me all the tighter, and after a while he tied my feet together. I could do nothing but cry, and at last I cried myself to sleep.
When I awoke I found myself in this town, called "Big Rapids," and here I have been ever since. It seemed to me very strange at first not to be in the woods, but in the midst of queer-looking white objects called "houses."
I started to take a walk, hoping to fall in with some bear of my acquaintance; but a hard thing fastened to my neck held me back. It is what men call a "chain," as I have since learned, and it compels me to stay in one place all the time.
I am no longer a cub, but am a full-grown bear. This kind of life does not suit me very well, but I have got used to it. One can get used to almost any thing. I have even got used to the society of men and women.
Their cubs (called boys and girls) often play with me, and sometimes they tease me. Once, when a boy was teasing me, I gave him a scare which will be apt to teach him better manners. I will tell you how it was.
The boy held out an apple, and, just as I was about to take it, he pulled it away. This mean trick he played three times. He tried it once more, and then I gave such a spring that my chain broke.
The boy dropped his apple, and ran. You ought to have seen that boy run! He didn't dare even to look back. But, if he had looked back, he would have seen me munching his apple with great relish.
I didn't want to hurt a cub like him; but some bears that I know wouldn't have been so for-bear-ing.
BRUIN.
