le wild beast thrived upon the milk of the tame animal and,
softened by human fellowship, grew up much attached to its master.
Bears, I may tell your ladyship, are not bloodthirsty by nature.
Henceforth the bear went forth with the herdsman and the herds, helped
to drive the goats together of an evening, and enlivened the long
dreary days by turning somersaults--an art at which bears excel. At
night it slept by Juon's side and made itself cosey by burying its snout
in his bosom. When meal-time came, the bear sat down beside Juon, for he
knew that every second slice of cheese would be his. He also fetched
fire-wood to put under the pot in which the maize-pottage was boiling.
Then, too, he explored the woods in search of wild honey and brought
back his booty to share it with Juon. When it was very hot he carried
his pelisse after him, a pelt more or less made very little difference
to him. Juon had nobody to speak to but the bear, and if a man speaks
quite seriously to the beasts they get to understand him at last.
Moreover, in moments of ill temper the bear had learnt to recognize that
Juon's fists were no less vigorous than his own paws, so that he had no
temptation to be ungrateful.

"This, then, was the man beloved by Mariora.

"In our part of the country, my lady, there is an original popular
custom, the maiden-market.

"In the highlands of Bihar stands the rocky bluff of Geina, which grows
green, like every other Transylvanian height, as soon as it is cleansed
from snow. There I first met Juon, many years ago. He stood there on the
mountain summit the live-long day, blowing on his alpenstock, while the
bear was plucking strawberries in the valley below and guarding the
goats, not from running away, but from other wild beasts. The prospect
from this spot is really sublime. In one direction you can see the
mountain-chain of Vulcani, in the other the environs of Klausenberg and
the Gyalian Alps. But westwards stretches the great Hungarian plain,
whose misty expanse loses itself against the horizon.

"On a certain day of the year things are very lively at Geina. In the
evening of the first Sunday after St. John Baptist's day the
ginger-bread-bakers come thither from Rezbanya and Topanfalu with their
horses dragging loads of honey-cakes, and barrels full of meal and
brandy, and pitch their tents in the forest-clearing. On that Sunday the
highlands are full of merry folks, and the maiden-market is held there.

"From