The Father. Why, you little cowards; are you frightened at the sight of blood? It is not mine, it came from the bear, and a little water will wash it away. Wife, give us a pail of water.
She washed their clothes, and then gave them a good basin of soup, which was ready for their supper, and when they had refreshed themselves, they agreed to go and see whether the bear could bite or not. Andrew took up his bill-hook, and the stranger took up a chopper, and they were going to open the door.
“O father!” cried the children, “pray don’t open the door, pray don’t; the bear will come in.”
Andrew. Nonsense. There; run up stairs.
Children. But, father, the bear will come after us.
Andrew. Then get into the empty flour binn.
He opened the door, and lifted up his bill-hook to strike the bear, but it fell lifeless upon the kitchen floor.
It was a very large animal and quite dead, one of its paws was nearly cut off, and its skull was split on the forehead. The threshold was covered with its blood.
When Andrew and the stranger were satisfied that the bear was quite dead, they drew it into the house and shut the door. When that was fast, the children, who had raised the lid of the binn to peep at what was going forward, ventured to come out, and look at the bear, but were still afraid to touch it.
“Well,” said the wife, “sit down and tell us all about this terrible business.”