Esther, sobbing and trembling, clung to Mrs. Carew, and Faith held tight to her father’s hand while he told the story. The bear, with his nose in the kettle of syrup, had not even heard Mr. Carew’s approach, and had been an easy mark.
“You’ll find your kitchen in a sad state, Lucy,” said Mr. Carew, as he finished. “I have dragged the bear outside, and he will furnish us some fine steaks, and a good skin for a rug; but your kettle of syrup is all over the floor.”
“Kettle of syrup?” questioned Mrs. Carew. “Why, there was no kettle of syrup.” Neither of the little girls offered any explanation. Mr. Carew looked about the clearing to see if any other bear was in the neighborhood, but it was evident that the creature had come alone.
“’Tis not often they are so bold,” said Mr. Carew, as they neared the cabin, “although last year an old bear and two cubs came down by the mill, but they were off before I could get a shot at them.”
Mrs. Carew looked about her kitchen with a little feeling of dismay. The kettle had been overturned, and what syrup the bear had not eaten was smeared over the hearth and floor. The little rocking-chair was tipped over and broken, and everything was in disorder.
Esther looked into the kitchen, but Mrs. Carew cautioned her not to enter. “You and Faith go to the front door and go into the sitting-room,” she said. “There is nothing that either of you can do to help;” so Faith led the way and pushed open the heavy door which led directly into a big comfortable room. The lower floor of the cabin was divided into two rooms, the sitting-room and kitchen, and over these were two comfortable chambers. The stairs led up from the kitchen.
Faith thought the sitting-room a very fine place. There was a big fireplace on one side of the room, and the walls were ceiled, or paneled, with pine boards. On one side of the fireplace was a broad wooden settle, covered with a number of fur robes, and several big cushions. Between the two front windows stood a table of dark wood, and on the table were two tall brass candlesticks. A small narrow gilt-framed mirror hung over the table.
There were several strongly-made comfortable wooden chairs with cushions. The floor was of pine, like the ceiled walls, and was now a golden brown in color. There were several bearskin rugs on the floor, for Mr. Carew, like all the men of the “Wilderness,” was a hunter; and when not busy in his mill or garden was off in the woods after deer, or wild partridge, or larger game, as these fine skins proved.
“What a funny room,” exclaimed Esther, with a little giggle. “Our sitting-room has beautiful paper on the walls, and we have pictures, and a fine carpet on the floor. What are you going to tell your mother about that maple syrup?” she concluded sharply.
“I don’t know,” responded Faith.