anything, and he let Goshmeelee
understand that his mind was open to any fresh ideas. As Goshmeelee
didn't happen to have any fresh ones at the moment, she hadn't any to
pass on. Dusty Star looked away across the swamp. It was growing dark,
and the black pools were even blacker than before. Unless you knew a
path, it would be impossible to find your way across, now that the dusk
had fallen. Goshmeelee, could have done it, of course, but then she was
at home. Goshmeelee, however, had no intention of doing any such thing.
If persons chose to visit at awkward times, she really couldn't be
expected to see them safely home.

Blackness was in the swamp now: all its pools and bogs and rotting logs
seemed breathing out a damp dusk of their own, heavy with decay.

Dusty Star looked at Goshmeelee and shivered. _She_ looked dark enough
in her black fur, but also warm and _dry_. There was an air of large
comfortableness about Goshmeelee which was very pleasant to contemplate
on a damp night. Dusty Star contemplated, and had an idea. When the bear
turned into her lair, he had made up his mind. He gave her time to
settle herself comfortably, and arrange the cubs to her liking, and then
boldly crept in after her.

To say that Goshmeelee was surprised, is putting it very mildly.
Goshmeelee was thunderstruck. In all her great experience, extending
over many moons, such an utterly amazing happening had never before
taken place. If any other creature--beast, bird or human-being--had
attempted to approach her precious cubs, Goshmeelee would have barely
given it time to wish it had never been born. But when this small Indian
boy fearlessly did the quite impossibly monstrous thing--actually
pushing himself in beside her as if he were another cub--she had every
claw and tooth ready to tear him into little strips, but--she hadn't
_the heart_!

What it was in Dusty Star that made him different from every other
creature she had ever come across, she didn't in the least know. Only
she felt that the difference was there. Also, she felt quite certain,
that, whatever he was, or did, he wouldn't damage the cubs.

It was very cosy in the lair, not to say stuffy. Also, there was very
little room. If you wanted to be thoroughly comfortable, you hadn't to
be backward about pushing. The cubs weren't troubled with a feeling of
backwardness. First one gave a good shove, and then the other. Dusty
Star, nestling close against Goshmeelee's furry side, fel