"What'd you jump on my stomach for?" said the stranger. Then Little White Bear knew right away what he had done. The black things he thought were Jim Raven and his crowd were not those people at all, but they were Little Black Bear's feet sticking up over the hill, as he rolled around on the snow, having a frolic all by himself.
"Well," said Little White Bear, "where did you come from?"
"Oh! My home is just a little way up in the hills," said Little Black Bear politely. "We have a great many cousins in this cold country; there is Little Brown Bear and Big Barren Ground Grizzly Bear, and I don't know how many more, but we seldom get to see any of our white cousins. How are you? I am glad to see you."
"I think I shall be very fine when I get over my scratches," smiled Little White Bear. "You must have very sharp claws."
"They are quite sharp," said Little Black Bear slowly. "I am sorry I scratched you. Let's find something to play, and you will forget all about it."
"All right!" said Little White Bear gleefully, and away they went, looking for some adventure in the great, white world.