“Huh, that’s just the way to make ’em stay around here!” declared Ted. “They’ll stay as long as you feed ’em—like a stray dog.”
It was evident that something must be done, for the two bears, having picked up all the scraps they could find outside the camp, were now approaching closer. They stood up and sniffed hungrily, moving their snouts about in a peculiar way. Nor did they appear to be afraid of the fire, on which Ted piled more wood.
“I wish their keeper would come and take them away,” said Mrs. Martin.
Then, as if in answer to her wish, a man came running out of the forest—a lumberman, he seemed, with big boots on—and in his hands he carried chains that rattled and clanked. At the sound of the rattling chains the bears turned, like boys caught in a jam closet, and, dropping to all fours, would have run into the woods, except that the man shouted:
“No, you don’t, Jim! Come back here, Jack, you little rascal! Come here, I say!”
The bears paused, and then, as the man ran toward them and again shouted, they turned about and walked slowly back to him. In an instant he had snapped one end of the chains he carried into collars they wore about their necks.
“Hope my pets didn’t scare you folks,” said the man, as he playfully pulled the little short ears of his shaggy charges. “Jim and Jack are as gentle as lambs, but you’ve got to know how to treat ’em. Hope they didn’t frighten you.”
“They didn’t—exactly,” said Mr. Martin. “We were a bit surprised, at first, but the bears seemed to be content to pick up scraps about the place.”
“That’s what they love—picking up scraps of food,” said the lumberman.
“Are they your pets?” asked Janet.