"Why, no, we'll take them with us," said Don.
"Not with my consent. Pay double fares from Winnipeg to New York, then have everything in Oakwood torn to pieces, including the family, when the bears grow larger."
"Oh, we'll only keep them while they are cute like puppy dogs, then we'll send them to the menagerie," replied Don.
"Better turn them loose in the woods," said Cookee.
"Why, no, now that we have had all the trouble of getting them, and they are orphans, they will never know any other home than a cage, so I agree with the children—let us keep them while we remain and they will play like puppies, then ship them to the city to be trained," said Mrs. Starr.
As her word was generally obeyed, the matter was considered settled, and the cubs remained where they were for a time.
In a few days, the cubs opened their tiny twinkling eyes, and soon were able to roll around. At first they tried to stand, but their fat little legs would not hold them up, and they rolled on the floor like balls of fur. Many a shout of glee rang out from the dining-room when the cubs tried to exercise. But in a week's time they could jump and run after the twins if they teased them.
A long, hard spell of cold weather followed the bear-fight, and the children had to play indoors every afternoon for some time, but they preferred it on account of their new play-fellows.
The little bears grew strong and mischievous, and many a bout they had with Don and Dot, the latter generally having to climb upon the table to get away from them.
Mike took especial pride in keeping them clean and chubby, and the two bears followed him as if he was a natural protector. He never teased them and said little, but they knew that he was their foster-mother.