Buster the Big Brown Bear

by George Ethelbert Walsh

The bread didn’t taste nearly so good after the pies, but Buster was still very hungry, and, not finding any more dessert, he began slowly munching the bread. If there had been soup, I suppose, he would have ended his meal with that.

After eating a dozen rolls, and one loaf of bread, he felt better. A noise up the street, accompanied by loud shouting, suddenly made him stop and listen. Perhaps the man who owned the basket was returning with help.

Buster decided that he wouldn’t wait until the men appeared, and taking a loaf of bread in each of his front paws he climbed over the fence and disappeared in the woods. Long before the men reached the spot he had made his way into the heart of a big swamp where he sat down and finished his meal.

He felt so much better by that time that he took a long drink from the brook, and then resumed his journey. He came out of the swamp on the opposite side, and seeing a hill climbed to the top. He hoped to get a view of the railroad from there.

But when he reached it he saw no signs of it. There was a small cluster of houses on his right, a swamp and woods behind him, and open country on his left, with here and there a farm house. Buster decided to keep away from the village.

The farm houses attracted him, for he could hear the crowing of a rooster off in that direction and the cackling of geese. There was the moo of a cow and the neighing of a horse from one barn-yard, and the barking of a dog from another.

“I won’t bother the dog,” Buster said, keeping away from that farm-yard. “They’re harmless, but very annoying.”

He waddled across a field and climbed a fence until he stood in the barn-yard of the nearest farm. After reaching the barn he poked his head in the open doorway. A boy was in there milking a cow. Buster watched the streams of milk, and a sudden desire to taste milk again made him forget all caution. He stepped across the threshold, a pleasant grin on his face, and a rollicking smile in his eyes.

But the boy didn’t see anything friendly in either the grin or the twinkling eyes. When he glanced up and caught sight of Buster, he sat on his milk stool as if paralyzed, and then recovering himself he let out a shrill cry and darted for the opposite door. He disappeared like a flash, leaving the milk pail behind him.

“How foolish of him!” said Buster. “I wouldn’t hurt him!”