At the same time that he shouted for help so loud, he grasped hold of a tree close by, and began to climb it, by the branches, to get out of the bear’s way. When he got up a little way he could see over the bushes to the very place where the bear was; he looked there and saw,—what do you think it was? Why it was nothing but an old, black log! An old, black log, lying against the rocks. The man felt ashamed. He clambered down and went to look at the log which had frightened him so. It was as black as a coal.[*] The man laughed to think that he should have supposed that to be a bear.
He determined not to be so foolish another time, and then he went along climbing up the mountain. It was steep and rocky, and there were bushes and trees each side of the path. He had to stop often to take breath and rest himself. At last he reached the top, and could see a great many miles all around. He could see woods and farms and towns and rivers away down, down, very far below him.
After a while he came down the mountain. He walked very carefully, so as not to fall. When he came to where the old black log was, he looked at it and laughed.
[*] It was burnt black by a fire, which somebody had built there a great while before.
ROLLO GETTING READY FOR HIS FATHER.
One day little Rollo was sitting by the fire on his green cricket. His mother was sewing at her work-table.
“Mother,” said Rollo, “when do you think father will come home?”
His mother said, “I think he will come home pretty soon.”