ews; the
other squaw followed with the jug.
"When the Water-Snake-with-the-Long-Tail heard that his pappoose had
been eaten by a bear, he felt, I suppose, very much as any white father
would have felt under the circumstances. He vowed vengeance against Old
Two Claws, but consoled himself with a drink of the fire-water before
starting on the hunt.
"The braves with him followed his example. It wasn't in Indian nature to
start until they had emptied the jug, so it happened that Old Two Claws
got off again. Tipsy braves can't follow a trail worth a cent.
"Not very long after that a woman in a neighboring settlement heard her
children scream one day in the woods near the house. She rushed out, and
saw a bear actually lugging off her youngest.
"She was a sickly, feeble sort of woman, but such a sight was enough to
give her the strength and courage of a man. She ran and caught up an
axe. Luckily she had a big dog. They two went at the bear.
"The old fellow had no notion of losing his dinner just for a woman and
a mongrel cur. But she struck him a tremendous blow on the back; at the
same time the pup got him by the leg. He dropped the young one to defend
himself. She caught it up and ran, leaving the two beasts to have it out
together.
"The bear made short work with the cur, but instead of following the
woman and child, he skulked off into the woods.
"The settlers got together for a grand hunt; but Old Two Claws--for the
tracks showed that he was the scoundrel--escaped into the mountains, and
lived to make more trouble another day.
"The child? Oh, the child was scarcely hurt! It had got squeezed and
scratched a little in the final tussle; that was all.
"As to the bear, he was next heard of in our settlement."
The hostler hesitated, winked his one eye with an odd expression, put a
fresh quid into his cheek, and finally resumed,---
"A brother-in-law of my uncle, a man of the name of Rush, was one day
chopping in the woods about half a mile from his house, when his wife
went out to carry him his luncheon.
"She left two children at home, a boy about five years old, and a baby
just big enough to toddle around.
"The boy had often been told that if he strayed into the woods with his
brother a bear might carry them off, and she charged him again that
forenoon not to go away from the house; but he was an enterprising
little fellow, and when the sun shone so pleasant, and the woods looked
so inviting, he wasn
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