is a
bear, with the blade of a knife buried in his breast, the haft being
clutched by a human hand! Open the gate, and enter the spacious
courtyard. Inside, on the right and left, you will observe two live
bears--both of chestnut-brown colour, and each of them as big as a
buffalo. You cannot fail to notice them, for, ten chances to one, they
will rush towards you with fierce growls; and were it not that a strong
chain hinders them from reaching you, you might have reason to repent
having entered the courtyard of the palace Grodonoff. Look around you
in the courtyard and over the different doors that open upon it; you
will again see the crest of the bear, sculptured in stone; you will see
it over the stables, the coach-house, the granary, the kitchens,--
everywhere. You may know by all this, that it is the coat-of-arms of
the Baron Grodonoff, whose crest is a bear with a blade buried in its
breast, and a human band clutching the haft.

You will naturally conclude that there is some history connected with
this singular tableau--that it is the commemoration of some deed done by
a Grodonoff, entitling him to use the bear as his heraldic device. This
is quite true; and if you enter the picture-gallery of the palace, you
will there behold the deed more explicitly represented, in a large
oil-painting hung conspicuously in the centre of the wall. The scene of
this painting is a forest of old trees, whose grey, gnarled trunks stand
thickly over the ground. There is only a little open space or glade in
the middle; and this is occupied by three figures, two men and a bear.
The bear is between the two men; or, rather, one of the men is prostrate
upon the ground--where he has been struck down by a blow from Bruin's
paw--while the huge animal stands over him reared up on his hind
quarters. The other man is upon his feet, apparently engaged in a
desperate wrestle with the fierce brute, and likely to prove the
conqueror--as he has already buried the blade of a large hunting-knife
in the animal's breast, and directly over the region of its heart.
Indeed, the shaggy monster already shows signs of succumbing. His paw
has dropped from the shoulder of his antagonist, his long tongue lolls
out, the blood rushes from his mouth and nostrils, and it is evident
that his strength is fast forsaking him, and that he will soon sink
lifeless upon the earth. You will notice that the two men who figure in
the painting are very dissimilar in