“I thank you, Miss Margaret,” said he, and he soon became cheerful.
Looking around with a smile, and particularly at Margaret, he asked if he might go on with his story.
“Oh, do, Sir!—please do!” cried a dozen voices at once. So he continued as follows:
“I must now tell you about my own captivity, and I fear there were several times when I did not follow my mother’s advice but really lost my temper for some minutes. I had scarcely reached my full growth when a party of hunters came to the forest where I lived and surprising me while I was asleep, caught me fast in a very strong rope net. I made a great struggle. Three of the hunters stepped a few paces back and leveled their guns with the intention of shooting me. At this moment an immense wild pig rushed out of a thicket and crying ‘ouff!’ charged right upon the three hunters—knocked them all three flat upon their backs like ninepins—and then dashed into the thicket on the opposite side! Up jumped the three hunters, very angry, and instantly fired their guns into the thicket after the wild pig. But he was out of their reach. Another of the hunters was now about to thrust his spear at me when suddenly he gave a loud cry, and flung his spear at a tree, close to the foot of which we saw a large yellow and red brush tail whisk round.
‘Oh,’ cried the hunter. ‘Some rascal of a fox has bitten me in the foot!’
I need not tell you who these two forest friends were who had thus saved my life. You have already guessed.”
“Jemmy and Hugo,” whispered the children.
“Jemmy and Hugo, grown up!” nodded Mr. Bear.
“The hunters now began to talk together about whether I might not be of more value to them alive in a menagerie than if they killed me. They spoke of my rich, bright, brown-coloured fur, my large size, my youth. At length they decided to send me to a menagerie. Some of them said that a live bear was a great trouble on a long journey.
I now saw that it was of no use to make any further struggle among so many armed men, so I became very quiet. The cords that bound me had become partially loose at the arms. The son of the hunter, who had been about to kill me with his spear, happened to come close to me. I slowly freed one paw and instead of seizing the boy roughly, I slowly raised myself to an upright position behind his back and then patted him gently upon the top of his head. This surprised, amused, and won the hearts of all the hunters. They said it was quite impossible to kill such a good-natured bear, and from that day they called me The Good-Natured Bear.