“Beside all this, they send the skins to market, and they bring high prices at St. Petersburgh, for the use of the ladies, and for many other purposes. Such is the value of this creature when dead; when alive he is also of some account. He has a rope put around his neck, and is taught a great many curious tricks. I suppose he might learn to read and go to college, as well as half the fellows that do go there; but of this I cannot speak with certainty, for I never went myself. All I can say is, that a well-taught bear is about the drollest creature that ever I saw. He looks so solemn, and yet is so droll! I can’t but think, sometimes, that there’s a sort of human nature about the beast, for there’s often a keen twinkle in his eye, which seems to say, ‘I know as much as the best of you: and if I don’t speak, it’s only because I scorn to imitate such a set of creatures as you men are!’
“It is on account of the amusement that bears thus afford, that these Kamtschatdales catch a good many living ones, and send them by ships to market. They also send live bears to St. Petersburgh, London, and Paris, for the perfumers. These people shut them up, and make them very fat, and then kill them for their grease. This is used by the fops and dandies to make their locks grow. I suppose they think that the fat will operate on them as it does on the bear, and give them abundance of hair. I’m told that in the great cities, now-a-days, a young man is esteemed in proportion as he resembles a bear in this respect. Accordingly bears’ grease is the making of a modern dandy, and so there’s a great demand for the creature that affords such a treasure.
“Now, master ’Lexis, I hope you are satisfied that in saying you never heard any good of a bear, you only betrayed ignorance—a thing that is no reproach to one so young as yourself. But, after all I’ve said, I havn’t half done. You must remember that this creature is not like a sheep, or a reindeer, or a cow, or a goat—always depending upon man for breakfast, dinner and supper. Not he, indeed! He is too independent for that; so he supports himself, instead of taxing these poor Kamtschatdales for his living. Why, they have to work half the year to provide food for their domestic animals the other half; whereas the bear feeds and clothes himself, and when they want his skin, his flesh, or his carcass—why, he is all ready for them!”
“I am satisfied,” said Alexis “that the bear is a most valuable creature to those people who live in cold, northern countries; for he seems to furnish them with food, dress, and money; but, after all, they have the trouble of hunting him!”
“Trouble!” said Linsk; “why, lad, that’s the best of it all!”
“But isn’t it dangerous?” said Alexis.
“Of course it is,” replied the old hunter; “but danger is necessary to sport. It is to hunting, like mustard to your meat, or pepper and vinegar to your cabbage. Danger is the spice of all adventure; without this, hunting would be as insipid as ploughing. There is danger in hunting the bear; for though he’s a peaceable fellow enough when you let him alone, he’s fierce and furious if you interfere with his business, or come in his way when he’s pinched with hunger.
“I’ve had some adventures with bears myself, and I think I know the ways of the beast as well as anybody. Sometimes he’ll trot by, only giving you a surly look or a saucy growl. But if you chance to fall upon a she bear, with a parcel of cubs about her, why then look out.”
“Did you ever see a bear with cubs, father?” said Nicholas, the elder of Linsk’s sons.
“To be sure I have,” was the answer.