The boys brought stones as large as two, and sometimes as large as four of them, could carry, and piled them on the grave to prevent the wolves from digging into it. They put a large stone in the bear-skin; and four carried it, and put on small ones till they made a large pile, resolving whenever they came that way they would put on a stone. When the boys returned home (for they all went home with Sam), bringing with them the bear-skin, four coons, a partridge, and only three pigeons, and with downcast looks made known what had taken place, Mrs. Sumerford expressed much sorrow.
"You don't know, Sammy, how much I shall miss that creature. He was so good! He wasn't a mite like any tame bear that ever I saw; and I've seen scores of 'em, first and last. They are always great thieves; but he wasn't; he had principle: he was a good deal honester than Scip. They are mostly great plagues; people soon grow sick of 'em, and kill 'em: but he was not the least trouble. All the tame bears that ever I saw before him were mighty unsartin': they'd take spells when they would snap and strike with their paws."
"Tony's bear did: he killed a dog, broke his back at one lick of his paw; and he clinched Mrs. Blanchard, and wanted to kill her," said Grant.
"I know he did; but this bear was a great help to me about the child. When I was all alone, and wanted to weave, I could put the baby on the floor with the bear, and they would play ever so long; and when I couldn't get the little one to sleep by rocking, to save me, he'd go to sleep on the bear."
While his mother was thus recounting the virtues of the dead, it brought the whole matter to the mind of Sammy in such a light that he began to cry, and the boys with him; and finally the good woman herself was moved by the tears of the children.
The baby was sitting on the floor with his playthings, and, not knowing what to make of it, began staring with his great round eyes, first at his mother, then at the others; and finally, not relishing the silence, pounded on the floor with a spoon, and laughed.
"If you wasn't a baby, you wouldn't laugh; you'd cry like every thing," said Sammy.
"What creatures boys are!" said Mrs. Sumerford. "We've been thinking all the danger was from Indians; but I'm afraid they'll contrive to be killed by bears, or be drowned. They will if they can."