When passed up to the deck the boy gave one look at the bear, let out another yell of fright, and, ducking into the cabin, dodged under the table, where he crouched on hands and knees, his eyes sticking out like white doorknobs. The boys were too full of laugh for the time being to try to explain matters to him.
As soon as Alex. was on deck he began unwinding the fishline from his arm. Then he played it over the side of the boat, much to the amusement of his chums.
“Perhaps you think I didn’t catch a fish?” the lad demanded, with a wink at Clay.
“If you didn’t get a fish,” laughed Clay, “it is about the only thing you didn’t bring out of the river with you! We fished out a bear, a dog, and a baby coon with you! You surely ought to have a fish!”
And Alex. did have a fish! It was firmly hooked, and came flopping out of the water when he drew in the line. Still under the table, with his eyes on the bear, the rescued negro boy licked his chops when he saw it. Clay observed the action and went to him. After a time the little fellow was coaxed out of his hiding-place.
“That’s a pet bear!” explained Clay. “He won’t bite you!”
The boy seemed to want to believe the other, for the sake of the fish supper which appeared to be coming soon, but he edged away from the cub, all the same!
“You hungry?” asked Case, coming up.
The little fellow nodded, and Case went on.
“What’s your name?”