The man loosed Dido’s chain from the post, and led the little bear cub out into a nice grassy place, where the sun shone through the trees. Then the keeper put a horn to his lips and blew a jolly tune on it. At first Dido was a bit frightened at the music, but soon he found it was not going to hurt him, and then he rather liked it. Nearly all animals like music, though the way some dogs howl when you blow on a mouth organ, or play a fiddle, is queer, I think. Perhaps the dogs think they are singing.
Anyhow, Dido liked the horn-music which the man blew, but still Dido did not know anything about dancing, although he stood up on his hind legs.
“But I will teach you,” said the man.
He tied one string on Dido’s left hind leg, and another string on his right leg. Then the man called to two boys to help him.
“Now when I blow the horn,” said the man, “first pull on one string and then on the other. That will pull Dido’s legs a little, and soon he will know that he must lift them up, first one, then the other. And pretty soon he will learn to do it without any strings—just by hearing the music.”
The man again blew on his horn, but Dido did not dance. Then the little bear cub felt a pull on his left hind leg, as he was standing up straight, for he did not have to be taught to do this. And of course when Dido felt the pull on his leg he lifted it up.
“That’s the way!” cried the man, and he tooted a merry tune. “Now pull the other string, boy!”
The boy did, and Dido lifted up his other leg. Then came a pull on the one he had lifted before, and soon Dido was lifting first one hind leg, and then the other, going around in a circle as the man gently pulled him by the chain fastened to the collar.
All this while the man played music on the horn, and Dido liked it more and more. Soon he noticed that as the music went fast he was lifting his legs more quickly, and when the music played slowly his legs went slowly, too, the boys pulling the strings that way.
“He will learn to dance in a little while,” said the keeper.