“Nonsense,” said Balser. “He wasn’t blazing when I saw him.”
“Of course he wasn’t,” responded Poll. “He’d about burned out. D’ye think a bear could blaze away forever like a volcano?” Poll’s logical statement seemed to be convincing to the children.
“And he blazed up, did he?” asked Liney, her bright eyes large with wonder and fear.
“Blazed up!” ejaculated Polly. “Bless your soul, Liney, don’t you see how hot I am? Would a man be sweatin’ like I am on such a night as this, unless he’s been powerful nigh to a mighty hot fire?”
Poll’s corroborative evidence was too strong for doubt to contend against, and a depressing conviction fell upon the entire company, including Balser, that it was really the Fire Bear which Polly and Balser had seen. Although Balser, in common with most of the settlers, had laughed at the stories of the Fire Bear which had been told in the settlement, yet now he was convinced, because he had seen it with his own eyes. It was true that the bear was not ablaze when he saw him, but certainly he looked like a great glowing ember, and, with Polly’s testimony, Balser was ready to believe all he had heard concerning this most frightful spectre of Blue River, the Fire Bear.
One of the stories concerning the Fire Bear was to the effect that when he was angry he blazed forth into a great flame, and that when he was not angry he was simply aglow. At times, when the forests were burned, or when barns or straw-stacks were destroyed by fire, many persons, especially of the ignorant class, attributed the incendiarism to the Fire Bear. Others, who pretended to more wisdom, charged the Indians with the crimes. Of the latter class had been Balser. But to see is to believe.
Another superstition about the Fire Bear was, that any person who should be so unfortunate as to behold him would die within three months after seeing him, unless perchance he could kill the Fire Bear,—a task which would necessitate the use of a potent charm, for the Fire Bear bore a charmed life. The Fire Bear had been seen, within the memory of the oldest inhabitant, by eight or ten persons, always after night. Each one who had seen the bear had died within the three months following. He had been stalked by many hunters, and although several opportunities to kill him had occurred, yet no one had accomplished that much-desired event.
You may be sure there were no more games, riddles, or nut-cracking that evening in the Brent cabin. The children stood for a few moments in a frightened group, and then took their old places on the logs inside the fireplace. Polly, who was stupid with fright, stood for a short time silently facing the fire, and then said mournfully: “Balser, you and me had better jine the church. We’re goners inside the next three months,—goners, just as sure as my name’s Polly.” Then meditatively, “A durned sight surer than that; for my name ain’t Polly at all; but Samuel, or Thomas, or Bill, or something like that, I furgit which; but we’re goners, Balser, and we might as well git ready. No livin’ bein’ ever seed that bear and was alive three months afterwards.”
Then Liney, who was sitting next to Balser, touched his arm gently, and said:—
“I saw him too. I followed you a short way when you went out, and I saw something bright crossing the river on the ice just below the barn. Was that the bear?”