“His father took him away in a wheelbarrow.”
“His father took him away in a wheelbarrow.”
“Well, my dear, he lay still,” said the squirrel. “He lay still. He had broken his leg, so it was really the only thing for him to do. And when Coon came back from riding the other boy he jumped backwards and forwards over him till his father came and took him away in a wheelbarrow. Every time Coon jumped, he grinned at the boy; and every time he grinned, the boy screamed; so one inferred that he did not like it, you know.
“Altogether,” said the little squirrel, in conclusion, “it was a great success; a great success; really, worthy of our end of the wood. Andsucha feast as Uncle Munkle gave us the day after!”
CHAPTER X.
Itwas agreed by all hands at the next meeting, that Bruin must tell the story.
“You have not told a story for a long, long time, Bruin,” said Toto,—“not since we began to meet here; and Granny wants to hear one of your stories; don’t you, Granny?”
“Indeed,” said the grandmother, “I should like very much to hear one of Mr. Bruin’s stories. I am told they are very delightful.”
Mr. Bruin bowed in his peculiar fashion, and murmured something which sounded like “How-wow-mumberygrubble.”
The old lady knew, however, that it was meant for “Thank you, ma’am,” and took the will for the deed.
Bruin sucked his paw thoughtfully for a few minutes; then, raising his head with an air of inspiration,—“Pigeon Pretty,” he asked, “what kind of a bear was that in your story?”
“Really, Bruin, I do not know,” replied the wood-pigeon. “It said ‘a bear,’ that was all.”
“You see,” continued Bruin, “there are so many kinds of bears,—black, brown, cinnamon, grizzly, polar,—really, there is no end to them. I thought, however, that this might possibly have been the Lost Prince of the Poles.”
Here Bruin paused a moment and looked about.
“The Lost Prince of the Poles!” exclaimed Toto. “What a fine name for a story! Tell us now, Bruin; tell us all about him.”
“Listen, then,” said the bear, “and you shall hear about
The polar bears, as you probably know, are a large and powerful nation. They are governed by a king, who is called the Solar-Polarity of the Hypopeppercorns.
“Oh!” cried Toto. “Whatdoesthat mean?”
Nobody knows what it means. That is the great charm of the title. Gives it majesty, you understand. The present Solar-Polarity is, I am told, quite worthy of his title, for he is very majestic, and knows absolutely nothing. He sits on the top of the North Pole, and directs the movement of the icebergs.
At the time of which I am going to tell you, which was so long ago as to be no particular time at all, the Solar-Polarity had an only son,—a most promising young bear,—the heir to the kingdom. He was brought up with the greatest care possible, and when he had arrived at a suitable age, his father begged him to choose a mate among the youngest and fairest of the she-bears, or, as they are more elegantly termed, bearesses. To the amazement of the Solar-Polarity, the Prince flatly refused.
“I will not marry one of these cold, white creatures!” he said; “I am tired of white. I want to marry one of those things;” and he pointed to the north, where the Northern Lights were shooting up in long streamers of crimson and green and purple.
“One of those things!” cried his father. “My dear son, are you mad? Those are Rory-Bories; they are not the sort of thing one can marry. It’s—it’s ridiculous to think of such a thing.”
“Well,” said the Prince, “then I will marry the creature that is most like them. There must be some creature that has those pretty colors. I will go and ask the Principal Whale.”
So he went and asked the Principal Whale if he knew any creature that was colored like the Rory-Bories.
“Frankly,” said the whale, “I do not. Doubtless there are such, but I have never happened to meet any of them. I will tell you what I will do, however,” he said, seeing the Prince’s look of disappointment. “I am just starting on a voyage to the Southern seas; and if you like I will take you with me, and you can look about you and decide for yourself.”
The young bear was delighted with this proposition, and proceeded at once to assume the full-dress costume of the polar bears, which consists in tying three knots in the tail.
“A—excuse me!” interrupted the raccoon, “I thought no bears had any tails to speak of;” and he glanced complacently at his own magnificent tail, which was curled round his feet.
“He sailed away for the Southern seas.”
“He sailed away for the Southern seas.”
They have none to speak of; which makes it all the more remarkable for them to be able to tie three knots in them. As soon as this was accomplished, the Prince declared that he was ready to start.
“So am I,” said the Principal Whale. And taking the Prince of the Poles on his back, he sailed away for the Southern seas.
They went on and on for several days without any adventures; till one day the young bear saw a huge jelly-fish floating towards them. “See!” he cried, “there is a lovely creature, as bright and beautiful as the Rory-Bories. Surely this is the creature for me to marry!”
“I don’t think you would like to marry that,” said the whale. “That is a jelly-fish. But we will go and speak to it, and you can judge for yourself.” So the whale swam up to the jelly-fish, who looked at them, but said nothing.
“My dear,” said the Prince, “you are very beautiful.”
“Yah!” said the jelly-fish (who was in reality extremely ignorant, and had never gone to dancing-school), “that’s more than I can say for you!”
“I am sorry to hear you say that,” said the Prince, mildly.
“Will you marry me, and be Princess of the Poles?”
“Marry your grandmother!” replied the jelly-fish in a very rude manner; and off it flounced under the water.
The young bear looked sadly after it. “It was very pretty,” he said; “why did it want me to marry my grandmother?”
“It didn’t,” replied the whale. “That was only its way of speaking. An unmannerly minx! Don’t think any more about it,” and they continued their voyage.
A couple of days after this they met the swordfish and his daughter.
“These are some friends of mine,” said the Principal Whale. “We will see if they can aid us in our search.”
The swordfish greeted them kindly, and invited them to come down and make him a visit.
“Thank you,” said the whale. “We have not time to stop now. We are in search of a creature as bright in color as the Rory-Bories. My young friend here, the Prince of the Poles, is anxious to marry such a creature, if he can only find her.”
But the swordfish shook his head, and said he could not think of any one who would answer the description.
“Iwill marry you if you wish,” said the swordfish’s daughter, who was much struck by the appearance of the young bear. “I am considered very agreeable, and I think I could make you happy.”
“But you are not bright,” cried the poor Prince in distress. “You are even black, saving your presence. I don’t wish to hurt your feelings, but really you are not at all the sort of creature I was looking for; though I have no doubt,” he added, “that you are extremely agreeable.”
“You might play I was a Rory-Bory behind a cloud on a dark night,” suggested the swordfish’s daughter.
But the Prince did not think that would do, and the whale agreed with him. “One cannot play,” he said, “when one is married.” Accordingly they bade a friendly farewell to the swordfish and his daughter, and continued their voyage.
After several days they saw in the distance the coast of Africa. As they approached it, the Prince saw something bright on the land, near the edge of the water. “See!” he cried, “there is something very bright and beautiful. Let us go nearer, and see what it is.” So they went nearer, and saw a long line of scarlet flamingoes, drawn up on the beach like a company of soldiers.
“Prince,” said the Principal Whale, “your journey has not been in vain. I really think these are the creatures you have been looking for.”
As he spoke, the flamingoes, who had caught sight of the strange creatures approaching the shore, rose into the air, with a great flapping of wings, and flew slowly away.
The Prince was in ecstasies. “Oh, Whale!” he cried, “theseareRory-Bories, real live Rory-Bories! See how they shoot up, like long streamers! See how they glow and shine! One still remains on the shore, the loveliest of all. She is my bride! She is the Princess of the Poles! Swim close to the shore, good Whale!”
The whale swam up to the shore, the water being fortunately deep enough to allow him to do so, and the bear addressed the solitary flamingo, which still stood upon the beach, watching them with great curiosity. This was, in fact, the Princess of the Flamingoes; and besides being rather curious by nature, she thought it would be beneath her dignity to fly away just because some strange creatures were approaching. So she stood still, in an attitude of royal ease.
“Lovely creature!” said the Prince, “tell me, oh, tell me, are you really and truly a Rory-Bory? I am sure you must be, from your brilliant and exquisite beauty.”
“Not quite,” answered the flamingo. “Notquitethe same thing, though very nearly. I am a flamingo, and the Rory-Bory is a flaming go; pronounced differently, you perceive. That is the principal difference between the two families, though there are some other minor variations, which may be caused by the climate. What is your pleasure with me, and what might you happen to be?”
“My pleasure is to marry you!” exclaimed the young bear rapturously. “I am a white bear, and am called the Prince of the Poles. After my father’s death I shall become Solar-Polarity of the Hypopeppercorns. Will you be my bride, and reign with me as queen? You shall sit upon the North Pole, and direct the movements of the icebergs.”
The flamingo closed one eye, and drew up one leg in an attitude of graceful and maidenly coyness. “Your manners and bearing interest me much,” she said after a pause; “and I should be glad to do as you suggest, but I fear it is impossible. We are not allowed to marry any one with more than two legs; and you, I perceive, have four.”
The poor Prince was quite staggered by this remark, for he was proud of his legs, which, though short, were finely formed. He was silent in dismay. But now the Principal Whale interposed. “Would it not be possible to make an exception in this case?” he asked. “My young friend has come a very long way in search of you, and has quite set his heart on this marriage.”
“Alas!” said the flamingo, “I fear not. It is the first law in the kingdom, and I dare not break it.”
“What shall I do, then?” cried the Prince in despair. “If I cannot have you, I will go back and marry the swordfish’s daughter, and you would be sorry to have me do that if you knew how ugly she was.”
“In difficult cases,” said the flamingo, “we always consult the hippopotamouse. I should advise you to do the same.”
“The hippopotamouse?” exclaimed the Prince. “Where is he to be found? Tell me, that I may fly to him at once.”
“He lives in the middle of the central plain of Pongolia,” replied the flamingo.
“In that case,” said the Principal Whale, “I must leave you, my Prince, as travelling on land is one of the pleasures I must deny myself, being constitutionally unfitted for it.”
The Prince thanked the whale warmly for his kindness, and after taking a most affecting leave of the Flamingo Princess, he set off for the central plain of Pongolia.
He travelled night and day, and after many days he arrived at the very middle of the plain. There he found the hippopotamouse, sitting in the middle of a river, nibbling a huge cheese.
This singular animal combined all the chief qualities of a hippopotamus and a mouse. His appearance was truly astonishing, and filled the mind of the Prince with mingled feelings. He stood for some time gazing at him in silent amazement.
Presently the hippopotamouse looked up sharply. “Well,” he said, “what do you want? Do you think I am pretty?”
“N-no!” replied the young bear. “You may be good; but I don’t think you are pretty. I want,” he continued, “to marry the Flamingo Princess. I am the Prince of the Poles, son of the Solar-Polarity of the Hypopeppercorns. You may have heard of my father.”
“Oh! ah! yes!” said the hippopotamouse. “I’ve heard ofhim. Well, whydon’tyou marry her?”
“Because I have four legs,” answered the Prince sadly; “and it is against the law for a flamingo to marry any one with more than two.”
“True. I had forgotten that,” said the hippopotamouse.
“Can you suggest any way out of the difficulty?” inquired the Prince.
Without making any reply, the hippopotamouse plunged into meditation and the cheese at the same moment, and nibbled and meditated in silence for several hours; while the unhappy Prince stood first on one leg, and then on the other, endeavoring in vain to conceal his impatience. Finally, when he was quite exhausted with waiting, the hippopotamouse took his head out of the cheese.
“My young friend,” he said, “I see but one way.”
“My young friend,” he said, “I see but one way.”
“My young friend,” he said, “I see but one way out of the difficulty, and that is for you to walk about on two of your legs until they are worn out. Then, you perceive, you will have, unless my calculations have misled me, exactly two left,—the proper number to enable you legally to marry the Flamingo Princess. You may find this fatiguing,” he continued, seeing the Prince’s look of dismay; “but really I can see nothing else for you to do; and when you reflect that everything is more or less fatiguing, and that I have worn out five complete sets of teeth on this very cheese, you may become reconciled to your lot. Good-by. I wish you well.” And without more ado, he plunged into the cheese once more.
The unhappy Prince uttered one wild howl, and turning away, fled into the savage wilds of the Pongolian forest.
Here Bruin paused, shook his head, and sighed deeply.
“Oh! go on, Bruin,” cried Toto eagerly. “Howcanyou stop there? Go on immediately, and tell us the rest!”
Alas! there is little more to tell; for from that moment the Prince of the Poles has never been seen or heard of.
The Flamingo Princess waited long and anxiously for his return; but he never came. I believe she finally married an ostrich, who led her a terrible life.
The Principal Whale called at the coast of Africa on his way back from the Southern seas, and hearing the sad intelligence of the Prince’s disappearance, departed in great sadness for his Northern home, to break the news to the Solar-Polarity of the Hypopeppercorns. When that potentate heard of the disappearance of his son, he fell off the North Pole, and broke his neck; and the whole nation assumed the mourning costume of the polar bears, which consists in tying a sailor’s knot in the left ear, and a granny’s knot in the right.
And thus ends, in sadness and despair, the story of “The Lost Prince of the Poles.”
CHAPTER XI.
Oneafternoon (it was not a “story” afternoon, for the grandmother was very busy, dyeing some of her homespun yarn) Toto went off to the forest early, intending to have a game of scamper with Coon and Cracker. As he sauntered along with his hands in his pockets, he met the woodchuck. Master Chucky looked very spruce and neat, and was trotting along with an air of great self-satisfaction.
“Hallo! you Chucky,” exclaimed Toto, “where are you going?”
The woodchuck stopped, and glanced around with his sharp little eyes. “Is any one with you, Toto?” he asked,—“Coon, or Cracker, or any of those fellows?”
“No,” answered Toto in some surprise. “I was just going to find them. Do you want them?”
“No, indeed!” exclaimed the woodchuck. “You see,” and he lowered his voice confidentially, “I am going to a rinktum, and I don’t want those fellows to know about it.”
“What is a rinktum?” asked Toto. “And why don’t you want them to know about it?”
“Why, a rinktum is a rabbit’s ball, of course. What else should it be?” answered Chucky. “The rabbits have invited me; but at the last one Coon ate up all the supper, and bit the rabbits if they tried to get any; so they determined not to invite him again, and asked me not to say anything about it.”
“Oh, Chucky,” exclaimed Toto, “I wish you would take me! I have never been to a rabbit’s ball, and I should like to gosomuch! and I wouldn’t eat anything at all!” he added, seeing that the woodchuck looked doubtful.
Chucky brightened up at the last remark, and said, “Well, after all, I don’t see why I shouldn’t take you. They are always glad to see people, if they will only behave themselves. So come along, Toto;” and the fat little creature hurried along, with Toto following him.
“You may have some difficulty,” he said as they went along, “in getting into the ball-room, but I think you will be able to squeeze through. It is in the Big Burrow, which is certainly large enough for any reasonable creature. Here we are now at the mouth of the burrow.”
They were crossing a rough, uneven meadow, with trees and shrubs thickly scattered over it; and the woodchuck stopped at a large juniper-bush, in front of which sat a black rabbit.
“How do you do, Woodchuck?” inquired the rabbit. “And who is this with you?”
“This is a—a—a boy, in fact,” said the woodchuck in some embarrassment. “He is a great friend of mine, and has never seen a rinktum in his life, so I ventured to bring him. He—he won’t eat anything!” he added in a whisper.
The rabbit bowed to Toto by way of reply, and pulling aside the branches of the juniper-bush, disclosed a large hole in the ground.
“Follow me,” said the woodchuck; “I will lead the way.” And he disappeared through the mouth of the hole.
Toto dropped on his hands and knees, and followed as best he could. The path wasverynarrow, and wound about and about in a very inconvenient manner. Several times the boy was stuck so fast that it seemed as if hecould notget any farther; but he always managed, by much wriggling, to squeeze through the tight places. It was perfectly dark, but there was no possibility of his losing his way, for obvious reasons. At last he saw a glimmer of light ahead. It grew brighter and brighter; and at last Toto emerged from the passage, and found himself in a large cave, which in one part was high enough to allow him to stand upright. He immediately crawled over to this part, and getting on his feet, looked about at the strange scene before him.
The Big Burrow was lighted by the United Company of Glow-worms. These little creatures had arranged themselves in patterns all over the walls and roof of the cave, and were shining with all their might. The effect was truly lovely, and Toto could not help wishing that his grandmother’s cottage were lighted in the same way. The floor was crowded with rabbits of every size and color, and they were all dancing. Black rabbits, brown rabbits, white rabbits, big and little rabbits, racing round and round, jumping up and down, shaking their ears, and wiggling their noses. Oh, what a good time they were having!
“Would you like to dance?” asked a very large white rabbit, who seemed to be the master of ceremonies, looking up at Toto.
“Thank you,” said Toto. “I do not know the step, and I should only make confusion among the dancers, I fear.”
“Oh, you will have no difficulty in learning the step,” said the white rabbit. “Nothing could be easier: first you jump up, then wriggle your hind-legs in the air, then turn round three times, rub your nose with your right fore-paw, jump again, rub your nose with your left hind-paw, turn round—”
“But I have only two legs,” objected Toto meekly.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Would you like to dance?”
“Dear, dear!” said the master of ceremonies. “That does seem to be a difficulty, doesn’t it? What a pity! Haven’t you ever had any more?”
“No,” said Toto. “We are not made that way, you see. But don’t mind me,” he added, seeing that the hospitable rabbit seemed really distressed. “I only came to look on, and I am enjoying myself very much indeed, I assure you.”
“Pretty sight, isn’t it, Toto?” said the woodchuck, bustling up, while the master of ceremonies went off to attend to his duties. “See that young white rabbit with the black nose and tail? She is the belle of the evening, I should say. Lovely creature! I have just danced twice with her.”
“Whatisthat brown rabbit doing?” exclaimed Toto. “He has been standing on his head before her, and now he is lying on his back and kicking his feet in the air. I think he is in a fit.”
“No, no,” said the woodchuck. “Oh, no. He is merely expressing his devotion to her, that is all. He has been in love with her for a long time,” he added, “but I don’t think it will ever come to anything. He has no whiskers to speak of, and he comes from a very inferior sort of burrow. She ought not to dance with him at all, in point of fact, but she issoamiable!”
“It is a pity they have no music,” said Toto. “I don’t see how they manage to dance. Would they like me to whistle for them, do you think, Chucky?”
“Oh,wouldn’tthey!” cried the woodchuck in delight. “What a nice boy you are, Toto! I amsoglad I brought you!”
So Toto whistled a merry tune, and the rabbits nearly went mad with delight. They capered, and jumped, and wriggled their hind-legs, and rubbed their noses, till Toto really thought they would dance themselves into small pieces; and when he stopped, they all tumbled down on the ground in little black and white and brown heaps, and lay panting and exhausted.
The master of ceremonies came up to Toto, and after making him nine very polite bows, thanked him warmly for the pleasure he had given them. “This is certainlytherinktum of the season,” he said, “and much of its success is owing to your kindness.” He then begged Toto to come into the supper-room, and led the way to an adjoining cave.
Toto followed, with a comical glance at the woodchuck, to remind him that he had not forgotten his promise.
The supper was served in superb style, worthy of “therinktum of the season.” There was cabbage-soup and broccoli broth. There were turnips and carrots, celery and beets and onions, in profusion; and in the centre of the room rose a lofty mountain of crisp green lettuce. Ah! that was a supper to do a rabbit’s heart good!
Toto, mindful of his promise, showed great self-denial with regard to the raw vegetables, and even remained firm against the attractions of the cabbage-soup.
The white rabbit was quite melancholy over his guest’s persistent refusal to eat of his good cheer. “But perhaps,” he said, “creatures of your race never eat. I see that your nose does not wiggle when you speak, so perhaps you cannot eat, eh?”
“Oh, yes,” said Toto in an off-hand way. “Yes, wecan; and sometimes wedo. I have eaten in the course of my life, and I may do it again, but not to-night.”
At this moment the guests all came pouring into the supper-room; and Toto began to think that it would be wise for him to slip away quietly, as it must be near his own supper-time, and his grandmother would be wondering where he was. So he took a friendly leave of the master of ceremonies, and nodding to the woodchuck, he left the supper-room, made his way through the ball-room, and dropping once more on his hands and knees, proceeded to wriggle his way as best he might through the underground passage.
A very grimy and dusty boy he was when he came out again from behind the juniper-bush. He shook himself as well as he could, laughed a little over the recollection of the unsuccessful rabbit suitor kicking his heels in the air to express his devotion, and started on his way home.
He had spent a much longer time than he had meant to at the rinktum, and it was growing quite dark. He hurried along, for his way lay through a part of the wood where he did not like to go after dark. The owls lived there, and Toto did not like the owls, because none of his friends liked them. They were surly, growly, ill-tempered birds, and were apt to make themselves very disagreeable if one met them after dark. Indeed, it was said that Mrs. Growler, the old grandmother owl of the family, had once eaten several of Cracker’s brothers and sisters. The squirrel did not like to talk about it, but Toto knew that he hated the owls bitterly.
“I hope I shall not meet any of them,” said the boy to himself as he entered the wood. “I am not afraid of them, of course,—it would be absurd for a boy to be afraid of an owl,—but I don’t like them.”
The thought had scarcely crossed his mind, when he heard a sound of flapping wings; and a moment after a huge white owl flew down directly in front of him, and spreading its broad pinions, completely barred his passage.
“Who?” said the owl.
“‘Who?’ said the owl. ‘Toto,’ said the boy.”
“‘Who?’ said the owl. ‘Toto,’ said the boy.”
“Toto,” said the boy shortly. “Let me pass, please. I’m in a hurry.”
“You’re late!” said the owl severely.
“I know it,” replied Toto. “That’s why I asked you to let me pass. I don’t want to talk to you, Mrs. Growler, and I don’t suppose you want to talk to me.”
“Whit!” cried Mrs. Growler (for it was no other than that redoubtable female). “Don’t give me any of your impudence, sir! What do you mean by coming into our wood after dark, and then insulting me? Here, Hoots! Flappy! Horner! Come here, all of you! Here’s this imp of a boy who’s always making mischief here with that thieving raccoon. Let us give him a lesson, and teach him to stay where he belongs, and not come spying and prying into our wood!”
Immediately a rushing sound was heard from all sides, and half-a-dozen owls came hooting and screaming around our hero.
Toto held his ground manfully, though he saw that the odds were greatly against him. One owl was all very well; but seven or eight owls, all armed with powerful beaks and claws, and all angry, were quite another matter, especially as the darkness, which exactly suited them, made it difficult for him to tell in which direction he should beat his retreat, supposing he were able to beat it at all.
He set his back against a tree, and faced the hooting, flapping crowd, whose great round eyes glared fiercely at him.
“I’ve never done any harm to any of you,” he said boldly. “I’ve never thrown stones at you, and I’ve never taken more than one egg at a time from your nests. You have always hated me, Mother Growler, because I am a friend of Coon; and you’re afraid of Coon, you know you are. Come, let me go home quietly, and I’ll promise not to come into your part of the wood again.
“I’m sure, there’s no inducement for coming,” he added in a lower tone. “It’s the scraggiest part of the whole forest,—only fit for owls to live in!”
“Hoo! hoo!” cried Mother Growler in a rage. “I’m afraid of Coon, am I? A nasty, thieving creature, with an amount of tail that is simply disgusting! And our wood is scraggy, is it? Hoo! Give it to him, children!”
“Peck him!” cried all the owls in chorus; “scratch him! tear him! hustle him!” and, with wings and claws spread, they came flying at Toto.
Toto put one arm before his face, and prepared to defend himself as well as he could with the other. His blood was up, and he had no thought of trying to escape. If he could only get Mother Growler by the head now, and wring her neck!
But blows were falling like hail on his own head now,—sharp blows from horny beaks and crooked talons. They were tearing his jacket off. He was dazed, almost stunned, by the beating of the huge wings in his face. Decidedly, our Toto is in a bad way.
Suddenly a loud crackling noise was heard among the bushes. It came nearer; it grew louder. Toto listened, with his heart in his mouth. Surely, but one animal there was big enough to make a noise like that.
“Bruin!” he cried, with all the breath he could gather, panting and struggling as he was. “Bruin! help! help!”
A portentous growl answered his cry. The boughs crackled and burst right and left, and the next instant the bear sprang through the bushes.
“What is it?” he cried. “Toto, that was your voice. Where are you, boy? What is the matter?”
“Here!” cried Toto faintly. “Here, Bruin! The owls—” But at that moment the little fellow’s voice failed, and he sank bleeding and exhausted on the ground.
“How-grrrrr-wow-wurra-Wurra-WURRA-WOW!!!”
In two minutes more there were no owls in that part of the wood. Hoots, Horner, and the rest, when they saw the fiery eyes and glittering teeth of the bear, and heard his terrible roar, as he rushed upon them, loosed their hold of the boy, and flew for their lives. As for Mother Growler—
“Ididsay,” remarked Bruin, taking some feathers out of his mouth, “that I never would eat another owl unless it was plucked. Feathers are certainly a most inferior article of food; but in a case of this kind it is really the only thing to do. As Coon says, it settles the matter, and there is no further trouble about it. And now,” continued the good bear, “how is my dear boy? Why, Toto! look up, boy. They are all gone, and you are cock of the whole wood. Come, my Toto! I’ll eat them all, if they have hurt the boy!” he added in an undertone.
But Toto made no reply. He had, in point of fact, fainted from exhaustion and excitement.
Bruin sniffed at him, and poked him from head to foot; then, finding that no bones were broken, he lifted the boy gently by the waistband of his breeches, and shambled off in the direction of the cottage.
CHAPTER XII.
Thegrandmother all this time was wondering very much where her Toto was. “What can have become of the boy?” she said to herself for the twentieth time. “He is always punctual at supper-time; and now it is more than an hour past. It must be quite dark, too, in the wood. Wherecanhe be?” And she went to the door and listened, as she had been listening ever since six o’clock. “Toto!” she said aloud. “Toto, do you hear me?” But no sound came in reply, save the distant hoot of an owl; and reluctantly the good woman closed the door again, and went back to her knitting. She felt very anxious, very much troubled; but what could she do? Blind and alone, she was quite helpless. Suppose the boy should have wandered off into some distant part of the forest, and lost his way? Suppose he should have encountered some fierce wild beast, unlike the friendly creatures with whom he played every day? Suppose—But here the current of her anxious thoughts was interrupted by a sound; a curious sound,—a softthudagainst the door, followed by a scratching noise, and a sound of heavy breathing.
The poor grandmother turned cold with fear; she did not dare to move for some minutes; but the thud was repeated several times, as if somebody were trying to knock. She tottered towards the door, and said in a tremulous voice, “Who is there?”
“Only Bruin, ma’am,” was the reply, in a meek growl.
Oh, how relieved the grandmother was! With hands that still trembled she unfastened the door. “Oh, Mr. Bruin!” she cried. “Dear Mr. Bruin, I am so glad you have come! Can you tell me anything about Toto? He has not come home, and I am very anxious indeed. I fear he may have met some wild creature, and—”
“Well, ma’am,” said the bear slowly, “as for being wild—well, yes; perhaps youwouldcall her wild. And I don’t say she was amiable, and she was certainly very free in the matter of claws; very free, indeed, she was!”
“Whatdoyou mean, Mr. Bruin?” cried the poor old lady. “Claws? Oh! then I know hehasbeen attacked, and you know all about it, and have come to break it to me. My boy! my boy! Tell me quickly where he is, and what has happened to him!”
“Don’t be alarmed, ma’am,” said Bruin. “Pray don’t be alarmed! there are no bones broken, I assure you; and as forher, you need have no further anxiety. I—I saw to the matter myself, and I have no reason to think—no, I really havenoreason to think that you will have any further trouble with her.”
“Her!” said the bewildered old grandmother. “I don’t—Ican’tunderstand you, Mr. Bruin. I want to know what has become of Toto, my boy.”
“Certainly, certainly,” said the bear hastily. “Very natural, I’m sure; don’t mention it, I beg of you. As for a little blood, you know,” he added apologetically, “that couldn’t be helped, you see. I didn’t come up quite soon enough; but we know the blood isthere, after all; and a little of it outside instead of inside,—why, what difference does it make? He has plenty left, you know.”
“Bruin, Bruin!” cried a faint voice, “do stop! You will frighten her to death with your explanations. Here I am, Granny dear, safe and sound, barring a few scratches.” And Toto, who had been gradually recovering his senses during the last few minutes, raised himself from the doorstep on which the bear had laid him, and flung his arms round his grandmother’s neck.
The poor old woman gave a cry of joy, and then burst into tears, being quite overcome by the sudden change from grief and anxiety to security and delight.
At the sight of her tears, the worthy Bruin uttered a remorseful growl, and boxed his own ears several times very severely, assuring himself that he was quite the most stupid beast that ever lived, and that he was always making a mess of it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, ma’am,” he said, “I didn’t indeed; but I am such a stupid! And now,” he added, “I think I must be going. Good-night, ma’am.”
“What!” cried Toto, turning from his grandmother, and throwing his arms in turn round the bear’s huge shaggy neck. “Going, before we have thanked you? Going off without a word, after saving my life? Oh, you unnatural old Bruin! you shall not stir! Do you know, Granny, that he has saved my life from the owls, and that if it had not been for him you would have no Toto at all, but only a hundred little bits of him?” And he told the whole story in glowing words, while Bruin hung his head and shuffled from one foot to another, much abashed at hearing his own praises.
And when the grandmother had heard all about it, what did she do? Why, she too put her arms round the huge shaggy neck; and if ever a bear came near being hugged to death, it was that bear.
“And now,” said the grandmother, when she had recovered her composure, and had thanked and blessed Bruin till he did not know whether he had one head or seven, “it is very late, and I am sure you must be tired. Why will you not stay and spend the night with us? There is a beautiful fire in the kitchen, and a nice soft rug in front of it, on which you could sleep very comfortably. Do stay!”
The bear rubbed his nose and looked helplessly at Toto. “I don’t think—” he began.
“Of course he will stay,” said Toto decidedly. “There isn’t any ‘thinking’ about it. He will stay. Walk in, old fellow, and sit down in front of the fire, and Granny will give us both some supper. Oh! my Granny dear, if youknewhow hungry I am!”
It would have been a pleasant sight, had there been any one there to enjoy it, to see the trio gathered around the bright wood-fire an hour later. The grandmother sat in her high-backed arm-chair, in snowy cap and kerchief, knitting and smiling, smiling and knitting, as happy and contented as a grandmother could possibly be. On the other side of the hearth sat the bear, blinking comfortably at the fire, while Toto leaned against his shaggy side, and chattered like a magpie.
“How jolly this is!” he said. “It reminds me of Snow-White and Rose-Red, when the bear came and slept in front of the fire. By the way, Bruin, you are not an enchanted prince, are you? The bear in that story was an enchanted prince. What fun if you should be!”
“Not to my knowledge,” replied the bear, shaking his head. “Not—to—my—knowledge. Never heard of such a thing in our branch of the family. I had a cousin once who travelled with a showman, but that is the only thing of the kind that I know of.”
“Tell us about your cousin!” said Toto, eager, as usual, for a story. “How came he to take to the show business?”
“The man taught him to beat the drum.”
“The man taught him to beat the drum.”
“It took him,” said Bruin. “He was taken when he was a little fellow, only a few months old. The man who caught him made a pet of him at first; taught him to dance, and shake paws, and beat the drum. He was a drummer in the army,—the man, I mean. He was very kind, and my cousin grew extremely fond of him.”
“What was your cousin’s name?” asked Toto.
“They called him ‘Grimshaw;’” said Bruin. “His master’s name was Shaw, and he was grim, you know, when he didn’t like people, and so they called him ‘Grimshaw.’ He mostlydidn’tlike people,” added the bear reflectively. “He certainly didn’t like the showman.”
“Then Shaw was not the showman?” said Toto.
“Oh, dear, no!” said Bruin. “A war broke out, and Shaw’s regiment was ordered off, and he couldn’t take Grimshaw with him. He was very big then, and the other soldiers didn’t like him. He had a way of going into the different tents and taking anything he happened to fancy for supper; and if any one said anything to him, he boxed that one’s ears. They always tumbled down when he boxed their ears, and they made a great fuss about it, and so finally his master was obliged to sell him to the showman.Hisname was Jinks.
“He taught my cousin several new tricks, and took him all over the country, exhibiting him in the different towns and villages. You see,” said Bruin apologetically, “he—I mean Grimshaw—didn’t know any better. He was so young when he was taken that he didn’t remember much about his family, and didn’t know what an undignified sort of thing it was to be going about in that way. One day, however, Jinks undertook to make him waltz with a piece of meat on his nose, without attempting to eat it. Grimshaw would not do that, because he didn’t think it was reasonable; and I don’t think it was. So then Jinks attempted to beat him, and Grimshaw boxed his ears, and he tumbled down and didn’t get up again. Grimshaw waited a few minutes, and finding that he did not seem inclined to move, he ran away and took to the woods.”
“But why did not the showman get up?” inquired the grandmother innocently.
“I think it highly probable that he was dead, madam,” replied Bruin. “But I cannot say positively, as I was not there.
“After this Grimshaw lived alone for some time, wandering about from one forest to another. One day, as he was roaming up and down, he came suddenly upon a party of soldiers, three or four in number, sitting round a fire, and cooking their dinner. The moment they saw the bear, they dropped everything, and ran for their lives, leaving the good chops to burn, which was a sin. It was a good thing for Grimshaw, however, as he was very hungry; so he sat down by the fire and made a hearty meal. After he had dined comfortably, he began to look about him, and spied a big drum, which the soldiers had left behind in their flight. Seizing the drumsticks, he began to beat a lively tattoo. In a few moments he heard a rustling among the bushes, and saw a man’s head thrust cautiously out. What was his delight to recognize his old master, Sergeant Shaw! He threw down the drumsticks and uttered a peculiar howl. It was answered by a shrill whistle, and in another moment Shaw and Grimshaw were in each other’s arms. When the other soldiers ventured to return, they found the two gravely dancing a hornpipe, with great mutual satisfaction.”
“Oh! how delightful!” exclaimed Toto. “And did they stay together after that?”
“They found the two dancing a hornpipe.”
“They found the two dancing a hornpipe.”
“No, that was impossible,” replied the bear. “But they spent a couple of days together, and parted with the utmost good-will.
“After roaming about for some time longer, my cousin met some other bears, who invited him to join them. To their great amazement, one of them turned out to be Grimshaw’s elder brother; he recognized Grimshaw by one of his ears, out of which he had himself bitten a piece in their infancy. This was a very joyful meeting, and led to the restoration of Grimshaw to his parents, who were still alive. He spent the remainder of his life in peace and happiness; and that is all there is to tell about him.
“And now,” continued Bruin, “you ought to have been asleep long ago, Toto, and I have been keeping you awake with my long story. Off with you, now! And good-night to you too, dear madam. I will lie here in front of the fire; and if any creature, human or otherwise, comes to disturb the house during the night, I will attend to that creature!”