It seemed as if they never would get home. One on each side they took the basket a little way, and then they sat down to rest. Again they lugged and tugged it a short way farther; and sometimes the little creature inside made queer, uncouth sounds, and they had to stop and soothe and stroke him.
“Oh, he’s sucking my fingers,” suddenly said Ally, snatching her hand away.
“That’s how Pincher teaches the calves to drink,” cried Essie, joyously, “and we can give him his dinner just that way.”
Again and again it seemed as if they never would reach home. Fortunately it didn’t occur to them that there might be any mother-bear alive to follow them through the wood, and express her fear and anger in savage sort, with great cuffs of tremendous paws and cruel, murderous hugs. Cheerfully they dragged their burden along under the warm noonday sun, pink and perspiring, every now and again stopping for breath and strength, and taking a peep under the aprons. As for the little animal, he spent his own time sleeping for the most part. He seemed so warm in his fur, that seized with a sudden fear lest he should suffocate, they uncovered him, just as they came out at the foot of their lawn.
IV.
MOTHER BEAR’S CALL.
Maria, from an upper window, spied the children coming, tugging the basket along.
She called down to Old Uncle and Aunt Susan on the piazza.