An English girl in Japan

by Ella M. Hart Bennett

At first I felt rather forlorn and desolate, and longed more than ever for some girl friend to keep me company, but gradually I became very dependent upon the society of a large and strange variety of animals, to which I grew very much attached. Endless are the tales I could relate about the faithfulness and sagacity of various of my horses and dogs--to say nothing of birds of all descriptions, from the macaw--which saved my life from a desperate thief one night by his keen sense of hearing when I was alone in the bungalow--to the little bantam hen that laid an egg for my breakfast every morning on my bed.

My strangest companions, I think, however, were two brown bears who went by the names of Paul and Virginia. Why they were thus called I forget. My father found them as little cubs about three weeks old in the jungle, their mother having been killed a day or so previously by one of the men on the estate. The poor little beasts were nearly starved when I first saw them, but they rapidly recovered after having a few pints of warm milk poured down their throats. We fed them out of an old soda-water bottle wrapped in flannel, and it answered the purpose admirably.

As the cubs grew older they became the most delightful little creatures, and as playful as two kittens. Paul was always the larger and stronger of the two, but little Virginia was like a ball of brown fur, and had the gentlest and most winning ways imaginable. Like all bears, they dearly liked water, and we had a zinc bath made for them in the compound, in which they would sit for hours during the heat of the day--one at one end of the tub, and one at the other; swaying their bodies backwards and forwards as if they loved to hear the splash of the water against the sides.

As Paul grew bigger, however, he found that there was not sufficient room for him and Virginia to bathe together; so, hurrying to the bath a little before the appointed bathing hour, he would jump in, lie down flat at the bottom of the tub, and effectually prevent his sister from taking her morning ablutions until he had finished, and the water had become most distinctly muddy. Poor Virginia’s face was a study. Round and round the bath she used to pace, uttering from time to time a plaintive whine, but all of no avail; Paul ignored her existence completely until his morning bath was finished, although at other times they were excellent friends--in fact, a most devoted couple.

They had a constant companion in the shape of a small gray monkey named Brutus. Now, Brutus may have been ‘an honourable man,’ but my Brutus was a most dishonest monkey. Had it not been for his strange friendship with the bears, I think I could not have stood his vagaries. Nothing was sacred to him. Once my brush and comb disappeared, and when all efforts to find them had been unavailing, I heard a mocking chuckle, and discovered Brutus on the roof calmly brushing and combing himself with my lost property, just as he had, doubtless, observed me doing. Needless to say, when my brush and comb came into my possession, they were not of much further use to me.

I cannot mention a quarter of Brutus’s many offences and mischievous ways. If only he had exercised his talents in some useful capacity, he would have been, indeed, a valuable addition to the family. He nearly put an end to himself one day by trying to shave his little gray chin with my father’s razors; and had I not been near at the time and heard his piteous and truly human yells, he would certainly have bled to death, as he had given himself a frightful gash behind the neck, completely severing one ear. His appearance for several weeks afterwards resembled an old woman with the toothache, and it was a long time before he ventured into my father’s room again, although he made up for it by persecuting the cook almost to distraction. He was an intensely jealous little beast, and took a most violent dislike to a black kitten belonging to the kitchen regions. One day the kitten disappeared, and the poor little thing’s body was found in a saucepan of boiling soup. Brutus, in a fit of jealous rage, had thrust his victim into the saucepan on the fire, carefully replacing the lid so that no escape was possible.

The monkey’s friendship with the bears was purely mercenary. He was a lazy little beast, and found that riding was the pleasantest way of getting about the country. He therefore used to accompany Paul and Virginia in all their expeditions, springing lightly on the back of one or the other, holding on by their thick brown fur, and sticking to his seat like any jockey.

It was the funniest thing in the world to see the trio starting off for a long excursion into the jungle; and I think in time that Bruin and his sister got quite fond of their little master.

The bears’ favourite sleeping-place was at the top of a short, stunted tree just outside my room. This had its disadvantages, as their presence attracted other bears from the neighbourhood, which had not the friendly and harmless dispositions of Paul and Virginia. From time to time numerous ducks and chickens began to disappear in a mysterious way. A small and favourite dog also vanished, and, during the night, we frequently heard sounds of stealthy footsteps on the veranda, and, although my father rushed out with his gun to investigate, nothing was visible. In the morning, however, the invaders were tracked right into the jungle, as, wherever they had come, they had left devastation behind, tearing up roots, breaking down hedges, and doing terrible damage in our vegetable garden. In vain were traps laid, and coolies set to watch round the house. All was of no avail. Our live-stock grew gradually less and less, one by one the fowls disappeared, and we were in despair. Affairs reached a climax, however, one morning, when one of our coolies was missing, and, after a long search, his mangled remains were discovered some distance from the house, evidently the victim of the midnight invaders.

This settled the question. Paul and Virginia must go--but where? Although they would have been accepted at the Zoological Gardens in Calcutta, we did not like the idea of subjecting them to confinement in a cage. At last my father reluctantly decided to shoot them; and one morning a court-martial was held in the compound, attended by all the coolies on the estate; a grave was dug, the condemned were led out, two reports resounded through the still morning air--one following quickly after another--two brown heaps lay on the ground motionless, and now nothing is left of poor Paul and his sister but a grassy mound, with a little wooden inscription bearing their names and the date.