Then Dido stood up, and he saw that during the night the chain, which George always used to fasten him to a tree, had come loose.
“Why, I could run away if I wanted to,” thought Dido. “I could slip off in the woods and run away, as Don, the dog, did. Only I won’t. George would feel badly, and, besides, I might not be able to get anything to eat. These woods may not be like the woods on the mountain where I used to live. I guess I will not run away. I will just walk down to that little brook and get a drink.”
Not far from where the men and bear had slept that night was a nice brook, bubbling over green, mossy stones. Dido went down to the bank of it, and, as he was getting a drink, he saw some fish swimming about.
“Ha! Fish!” said Dido to himself. “That’s good. Here is my breakfast all ready and waiting for me—if I can catch one.”
The dancing bear leaned over the water as his father and mother had taught him to do. He had not forgotten. Dido waited. Pretty soon he saw, swimming along, a big, shiny fish.
“Ah, ha!” thought Dido. “I guess I can get you!”
Down he scooped with his paw, getting his claws under the fish, and out of the water he lifted him.
“Oh, look!” cried Tom, awakening just in time to see Dido toss the fish out on the bank. “What is our bear doing?”
“He is getting his breakfast,” answered George. “Wild bears often catch fish that way. But this is the first time I ever saw Dido do it. I wish he would catch some for us.”