"Nothing," said the captain, looking more pleased than ever.
"The captain has been troubled by the bears. Would it please him if they were all driven back to their dens in the great mountains towards the setting sun?"
"It would," said the captain; "can it be done?"
"It can. It shall," said the chief with emphasis. "To-morrow let the captain keep his eyes open, and as the sun sinks behind the mountain tops he shall see the bears follow also."
The chief kept his word. The next day the uproar on the hills was terrific. Frightened out of their wits, the bears forsook the acorn field and fled ingloriously to their secret haunts in the mountains to the westward.
In joy thereof the captain gave a great farewell feast to his red allies. It was spread under the pines in front of his cabin, and every delicacy of the season was there, from bear steaks to beaver tails. The banquet was drawing to a close, and complimentary speeches 'twixt host and guests were in order, when a procession of the squaws was seen approaching from the encampment. They drew near and headed for the captain in solemn silence. As they passed, each laid some gift at his feet—fringed leggings; beaded moccasins, bear skins, coyote skins, beaver pelts and soft robes of the mountain lion's hide—until the pile reached to the captain's shoulders. Last of all came Osito's mother and crowned the heap with a beautiful little brown bear skin. It was fancifully adorned with blue ribbons, and in the center of the tanned side there were drawn, in red pigment, the outlines of a very stolid and stoical-looking pappoose.
F.L. STEALEY.
THE LITTLE LION-CHARMER.
