When the scout master had taken a second look he made a discovery that seemed to afford him more or less satisfaction, for he immediately called out:
“It’s a live bear, all right, Arthur. Billy wasn’t dreaming, it seems. Look closer and you’ll find that the poor thing is tied to that tree with a rope; and chances are it’s the performing bear I heard was over at Salem last week!”
At that both of the other boys breathed freely once more. Billy puffed out his chest, filled with pride because his astonishing declaration had at least been proven true.
CHAPTER III.
THE DANCING BEAR.
“But it is a bear all right, isn’t it?” Billy was saying with evident satisfaction, “and you’ll have to take back all you said about my being so scared ’cause I saw a whole lot of things that never could happen, Arthur. Mebbe there aren’t any wild bears a-roamin’ around these parts any more, but I did see a hairy monster, didn’t I? And when I told you he reared up on his hind legs and made like he wanted to dance with me, I wasn’t yarning, you see. Huh! next time you won’t be so ready to make out I’m a fakir. Magnifying a stump into a live beast! Whew! look at him stretching right now, will you? What are you meaning to do, Hugh?”
The patrol leader had started toward the imprisoned bear, causing Billy to ask this last question.
“Why, I wonder where his master can be?” Hugh Hardin readily observed, his curiosity aroused afresh.
“Oh! taking a good long sleep somewhere in the bushes around most likely,” Billy remarked unconcernedly. “You know the breed all right, fellows. They’re as cruel a bunch as you’d find anywhere. I reckon this poor thing’s got heaps and heaps of big welts under his hair from being whipped when he wouldn’t feel like dancing, his pole held in his forepaws. I’ve watched ’em do it.”
All of them now approached the bear more closely. The animal did not seem to be of the common black American variety, but had a sort of cinnamon hue.
“I think they bring them over from Russia, down along some part of the Caucasus or Ural Mountains,” Hugh was saying as the shaggy beast, still standing erect on its haunches, started to make those queer whining sounds again.