“I’ve got a grand idea,” burst out Jo Ann. “Why can’t we go on a bear hunt? We have a gun, and I can shoot.”
“I can shoot pretty good, too,” added Peggy. “Daddy taught me when we lived in the country. I killed a possum once when he got in our henhouse.”
Jo Ann smiled. “He probably just played possum when he heard the report of your gun, and you thought he was dead. They’ll do that sometimes.”
“No, I killed him—sure enough.”
“Well, that’s not like killing a bear—a real, live, wild, grizzly bear.”
“They don’t have grizzly bears down here, silly.”
“How do you know they don’t?” retorted Jo Ann. “Grizzlies are found in the mountains of North America, and this is North America, isn’t it? Besides, you haven’t seen his tracks.”
As the argument continued, Florence explained to María and the children what it was about. The two little girls stared wide eyed at Jo Ann and Peggy. They had never in all their lives heard of a girl’s going out to hunt a bear. They decided a gun must be one of those terrible things which their grandmother had told them about. A stick which shot forth a deadly fire that killed everything before it. She had warned them never to touch a fire stick and to hide if they saw anyone with one.
Peggy burst out just then with, “Well, young lady, you’re not going on a bear hunt without me, that’s sure.”
Mrs. Blackwell stared at Jo Ann and Peggy in horrified amazement. “Girls! What are you talking about? A bear hunt! The idea!”