Even as Tom gave vent to this startling opinion something appeared at the opening below; something that speedily resolved itself into a smouldering black bear, that looked both scared and angry as he backed out of his den, snapping at various parts of his fat body, where the fire had touched most severely.
If Tom had been able to restrain his loud and scornful laughter, in all probability Bruin would have scrambled down from the tree, and ambled off; or else rolled in the snow to cool his scorched body; but the sight seemed so very comical that the boy burst into a shout.
He was immediately sorry for doing so.
The singed bear twisted his head when in the act of lowering himself stern first, and caught sight of his human enemy above.
Somehow the sight of the boy seemed to completely alter the animal's plans; and instead of showing fear, he now gave evidence of extreme anger, just as though he might be able to figure out some connection between the presence of that biped in his tree, and the suffering he was even then undergoing.
He showed his teeth in a vicious growl.
"Go on down, old man!" called out Tom, waving his hand; "the walking's fine. Besides, there's nothing for you up here. I'm not hankering for company, I tell you. So just skip out, please—do you hear, you beggar?" and Tom ended with a shout; for, to his consternation, the singed bear had commenced to ascend the tree again, evidently with the intention of trying conclusions with this enemy who had hurt him so grievously.
Tom did not exactly like the looks of things just about then.
There, he was, above the ground some forty feet, with an enraged bear climbing in his direction, and evidently bent on mischief. It was too great a distance to be covered in a jump, since the ground was frozen and hard, so that a broken ankle might be the result. To ascend further would mean that he must soon be chased to the very pinnacle of the tree, with Bruin close after, bent on clutching him with his sharp claws, and teaching him a lesson in politeness.
Whatever he expected to do must be started quickly, for the animal was getting closer all the time. If he only had a good long pole; or even a stout club, Tom believed he might poke the brute so furiously that he would conclude to give over his attempt to close with the boy who had laughed so heartlessly over his misfortunes, though Tom was doing so no longer, it might be noticed.