It needed but this to open the sluices, for the eyes of every boy were brimfull of tears. They had a good solid cry, and, having given vent to their pent-up emotions, felt relieved.
They all collected round the dead body of the bear. Sammy, kneeling down, began to pat his head, and talk to him as though he was alive.
"Poor beary! we be all real sorry you're dead: mother and the baby'll be sorry too. The dogs always did hate you, though you never did them a bit of hurt, wouldn't hurt a fly."
"If you'd been brought up in the woods same as that wild bear, you'd have licked two of her."
"The dogs know they've done wrong," said Rogers: "only see how meaching they look, and keep their tails 'twixt their legs."
The wild bear was poor, and not fit to eat: so they skinned her. But baby's bear was as fat as a well-fatted hog, but no one of them for a moment indulged the thought of eating or even skinning him.
"If we leave the baby's bear in the woods, and cover him up with brush, the wolves will get him," said Sammy.
Fred Stiefel and Archie volunteered to go home, and get shovels and hoes; and they soon dug a grave in the soft ground to bury their pet in.
"Let's put the cubs 'long with baby's bear. We know he liked 'em, cause he smelt of 'em, and was licking one of 'em when the old bear jumped at him," said Archie.
"The wolves sha'n't have baby's bear; they sha'n't pick his bones," said Sammy.