After the lion had finished the story, the little Cub Bear commenced to tease his papa for a story about the "Little-Club-Foot-Bear-that-would-not-mind-his-papa," but the Papa Bear said that he was tired of telling stories about the "Little-bear-that-would-not-mind-his-papa," but would tell a story about a club-foot grizzly bear, if the little Cub Bear wanted to hear it. The little Cub Bear said that he did, and snuggled up as close as he could to his papa, for grizzly bears are as large as four or five grown-up brown bears all put together, and they have great teeth and claws. They like to eat little pigs, and little calves, and such things instead of berries and honey. When the little Cub Bear had snuggled up as close to his papa as he could the Papa Bear commenced.
THE TRUE STORY OF HOW TEN MEN DID NOT KILL CLUB-FOOT
"When I was a little cub bear, long before I met your mother, and long before you were born, I lived in a small cave near a store, where men used to meet and talk about the bears that they had killed, and mountain lions that they had seen, and all sorts of stories of that kind. Well, I used to come down in the dark sometimes, and put my ear up to the crack between the logs, and listen to what the men said.
"One evening, while the men were telling stories, one of them said, 'Did you ever hear of the big grizzly, called Club-Foot?'
"And all the men said that they had heard of Club-Foot, except one of the men that had not lived there very long. He said that he had never heard of this grizzly. The men told this newcomer that Club-Foot was a very large bear, one of the largest that had ever been seen. The men said that a great many men had tried to kill this giant grizzly, because he would kill their little pigs and their little calves and colts. Then, too, they wanted to get his great skin to make a carriage robe. But they had never been able to get the bear. For even if they hit him with bullets from their guns, it did not seem to hurt him much, but made him very angry. This grizzly, instead of running away from a man with a gun, would run right up to him and knock the gun out of his hand. No one could kill this bear.
"They said that the bear lived in the San Bernardino Mountains, and that his great tracks had often been seen, and that all of his toes were missing from one foot. That was the reason they called him 'Club-Foot.' Probably when he was a little bear he had been caught in a trap and lost his toes. They said that the bear made regular trips from Mount San Bernardino to the Antelope Valley, sixty miles away. He had made the trips so often, that he had made a sort of trail through the mountains. This trail, the men said, was only a mile or so back of the store.
"While the men were talking, another man came in and said, 'Old Club-Foot has started from his den, in the side of Mount San Bernardino, and is coming this way. He ought to be along here some time to-night.'
"Then one of the men that they called 'Alex' said, 'It is a fine moonlight night to-night. Let's all get our guns and go up to the old grizzly's trail, and see if we can't kill him. There is a pig-pen right near the trail, with little pigs in it, so that the grizzly will be sure to stop there long enough for us to shoot him.'