“No, lord,” replied a hasty voice. “I dropped my cap, and had to go back for it.”
“Better keep close to me here,” said Armitage, as they turned the corner of a rock, and came out on a narrow platform of stone which appeared to form the centre of the social life of the gipsy community. The moment they showed themselves, every hole and cranny in the cliff seemed to disgorge humanity, and they were quickly surrounded by a crowd—old women offering to tell their fortunes, young women rolling bold eyes at them, children pawing their clothes with dirty hands, and all begging shrilly in a dozen different languages. With great wisdom Armitage addressed himself to the oldest, ugliest, most withered and most generally witch-like of the women, and presenting her with a handful of small coin for general distribution, asked if he could speak to the head of the tribe about the bear-cub he had to sell. The old woman looked doubtful. She was not sure whether the tribe would sell the cub after all. It had brought them good luck, and they thought of keeping it and training it to perform with the other bear. Armitage expressed so much disappointment, however, and hinted at such a good price, that the old woman hobbled off at last to the cave where the chief, who turned out to be her son, was sleeping, and woke him. With him a dozen swarthy, cunning-eyed rapscallions were added to the group, and listened greedily while Armitage made his offer. But the chief was adamant, though for a different reason from that given by his mother. The cub had been sold that very morning—a murmur of resentment rose from the women—to a rich Pannonian gentleman who was going to present it to the Zoological Gardens at Vindobona.
“This is most disappointing,” said Armitage. “I wanted to make a sketch of him, and then to present him to Prince Romanos, who is establishing a natural history collection at Therma. Would you mind showing him to me, that I may see whether he is larger than another I have heard of?”
“There’s no objection to that, if the gracious gentleman quite understands that the creature is not to be bought,” said the chief. “The bears are kept here.”
They moved towards another cave, and two men went in. One led out the dancing bear, which shambled blinking into the light, the other, standing just inside the entrance, showed a brown furry body in his arms.
“We dare not bring him out, lord, lest seeing a stranger he should begin to scratch and fight,” explained the chief. “He is muzzled already, as you see.”
Armitage looked critically at the little bear, while Sotīri, at his side, gazed with awestruck eyes into the gloomy recesses of the cave. “A fine little beast! Do you think you could get him quiet if I came here to sketch him another day? I would pay, of course.”
The chief seemed doubtful. The creature had a very uncertain temper, but if the gracious gentleman cared to take the trouble of coming again, and run the risk of disappointment—— Armitage reassured him, and arranged to come again the next morning, in case the purchaser of the cub should wish to take him away soon. Then, guided by a gipsy who was to lead them to the top of the gorge, and show them the way into the woods, he and Sotīri went on. When they had parted with their guide, he turned eagerly to the boy.
“Well, Sotīri, is it all right? Did you find out what you wanted to know?”
“Yes, lord, I found what I expected to find.”