and his companion might again be upon the road living the old free life.

CHAPTER VIII

THE BEAST AND THE MAN

A sense of pain and annoyance penetrated the deep sleep of Black Bruin,
and with a growl and a start he awoke. When he had fallen asleep his
mountain cavern had been quite dark. It had always been dark when he
awoke and stretched himself, but now the full glory of daylight was
streaming in.

There before him, dark, sinister and forbidding as ever, stood Pedro,
and in his hand was the sharpened stick with which he had been prodding
him, causing him to awaken.

As Black Bruin arose in response to his blows, he shook himself, and
stretched first one cramped leg and then another, which were stiff
after his long sleep. Pedro could not help but notice how he had grown
and what a great brute he was getting to be.

"Holy saints," he ejaculated, "but he is one pig deevil-bear. I must
club heem and prod heem much, or he eat me. He em one deevil."

Black Bruin felt a sense of irritation at the coming of his master and
followed him sullenly as he led the way out of the winter quarters into
the full day. How sweet and fresh was the air and how bright and
beautiful the world. Then, for the first time, there came an almost
overpowering longing for freedom. He had often felt it slightly, but
now it nearly mastered him and he all but broke into open rebellion.

The deep woods were calling to him. The wild free life was his by
right. He was no dog to be led about upon a chain, and to go and come
at the beck of man. He was a wild beast whose home was the wilderness,
and this cruel creature, who tyrannized over him, and prodded him, for
whom he did tricks day after day, had stolen away his freedom.

Of course Black Bruin did not think these thoughts in just this way.
To him they were dim and inexpressible; he only felt a wild rage at
being restrained and made a captive and a hot desire to be off.

So it was with this ill-disguised humor that he followed his master
from town to town and did his tricks.

Pedro, on the other hand, felt that the bear was becoming morose and
that his spirit must be broken, so he prodded and beat him until his
life was almost unbearable.

One evening the two camped near the edge of a spruce woods. Along one
side of the road ran a turbulent stream, which was at the bottom of a
deep gorge. At several points one could look down from fifty to one
hundred feet to the water,