That night they lay at an inn, where an iron shackle was locked about one of Nahma's ankles, and, with the bear, he was chained up in a stable. On the following day they reached a straggling country town in which a fair was to be held and where they were to give an exhibition. Here they pitched a tent. Nahma's suit of buckskin was restored to him, and he was again made to paint his face.
In this first exhibition he had nothing to do but stand and be stared at by curious rustics, but after this he was taught and encouraged to perform a number of acts in company with the bear. One of these was to shoot, with bow and arrow, an apple, or some other small object, from the animal's head. Then they would wrestle together, and finally a sort of a dance was arranged for them, in which Blink, made up as a clown for the occasion, also took part. Thus the show became so unique and popular that its proprietor coined more money than any other on the road.
But with prosperity came an evil more terrible even than adversity; for, with money to spend, the showman began to squander it in gambling and drinking until it was a rare thing for him to draw a sober breath. He became quarrelsome with his intimates and brutal to those in his power. His poor bear was beaten and tortured to make it learn new tricks until it became a snarling, morose beast, influenced only by fear, and dangerous to all except the young Indian, who was its fellow-sufferer. He, too, was abused, starved, beaten, and in all ways maltreated for not learning faster and pouring more money into his master's bottomless pockets.
One day, while Nahma and the bear were wearily performing their antics before a crowd of gaping yokels in the market-place of a small shire town in the west, the youth's attention was drawn to a child who was uttering shrill cries of pleasure. She was a dainty little thing with flaxen hair and blue eyes, exquisitely dressed, and was in charge of a maid. They had come from a coach that was drawn up before a shop near by, and the throng had opened to make way for them until they stood in the very front rank.
Suddenly the child, in an ecstasy of delight, pulled away from her nurse and ran forward with the evident intention of caressing the bear as though he had been a big dog. The brute was so tired, hungry, and cross that Nahma had with difficulty kept him to his work. Now, with a snarl and a fierce gleam in his small bloodshot eyes, he raised a threatening paw as though to sweep away the little fluttering thing that came running so confidently towards him.
A great cry rose from the crowd. The maid, so terrified as to be incapable of motion, screamed and covered her face with her hands; but Nahma, darting forward, snatched the child from under the descending paw. So narrow was the escape that his left arm was torn from shoulder to elbow by the cruel claws, and he staggered beneath the blow.
The showman, who had been passing his cap among the spectators, ran to the bear and, beating him over the head with a stout cudgel, drove him to his quarters in a near-by stable. Part of the populace cheered Nahma, while others demanded the death of the bear, and amid all the confusion came the mother of the little girl, frantic with terror. To her our lad delivered the child, frightened but unharmed. Then, without waiting to be rewarded, or even thanked, he ran to look after his friend the bear.