“Indeed!” said the Bear, as he relaxed his hold. “My son, sit down. What did you come to my house for? I am sure you are very welcome.”
“Why,” said the boy, “I came to get a piece of wood for a bow and sticks for arrows.”
Said the Bear, “I have looked out for this timber for a long time. There is none better in the whole country. Let me tell you what I will do. You don’t look very strong. You haven’t anything to cut the trees down with. I will go myself and cut down a tree for you. I will pick out a good one for a bow; not only that, but I will get fine sticks for arrows, too.”
So he stalked off into the forest, and crack, crack, he smashed the trees down, and, picking out a good one, gnawed off the ends of it and brought it to the boy, then gathered a lot of fine straight sticks for arrow-shafts and brought them.
“There,” said he, “take those home. Do you know how to make a bow, my son?”
“No, I don’t very well,” replied he.
“Well,” said the Bear, “I have cut off the ends; make it about that length. Now take it home, and shave down the inside until it is thin enough to bend quickly at both ends, and lay it over the coals of fire so it will get hard and dry. That is the way to make a good bow.”
“All right,” said the boy; and as he took up the bundle of sticks and the stave for the bow, he said: “Just come along toward night and I will introduce you to my mother.”
“All right,” said the old Bear; “I will be along just about sunset. Then I can look at your bow and see whether you have made it well or not.”
So the boy trudged home with his bundle of sticks and his bow stave, and when he arrived there his mother happened to be climbing out, and saw him coming.