The Denver star., 1918-02-23
BearStory''

fright. reminds me Of story that was
often told me by man, now old, who
In his youth herded geese for farm
er on the st. John river, between
Maine and Canada. I cannot vouch
for Its truth, but the old man was not
accustomed to trife with the truth,
and I knew his neighbors all gave the
story complete credence, says a con-
tributor to the Youths Companion.
II was hearty, lust.y kind of crit
ter In them days." so the old man used
to say. "and there was very few things
I wasn't into and out Of. could reap
and bind and use an az, and I was
pretty good at runnin' and wrasslin'.
There was an old man near abouts that
was thought to've been. a deserter
from the English army, and some Of
us youngsters he showed how to drill;
and as l took to it better'n some, he
showed me the use Of the bugle and
taught me some of the calls. He'd
been bugler in the army.
THAT year worked for a farmer
who lived on the river near where a
small stream made in. The point of
land where the two streams, hrrowed
together was very fiat and smooth, and
1t run out to a thin silver of sand at
the point. Back OF the point 1t was
covered with thick grass. It wes
handsome place to fatten geese, If they
was let alone, and that was my job
to make sure nothing bothered 'em.
1.-The farmer worked for had big
farm. He raised a power of hay and
he tied up forty head of cattle, and
the butter he made he sent down river
to the big settlements. And in the
fall Of the year he'd send down load
after load of chickens and geese Many
a night I've been up till daylight gettin'
a load of 'em ready to go in the MORN
ina load for yoke of oxen, mind
you!
'The chickens had the run of the
farm and took their own chances of
foxes, and such, but the geese he
looked after more. herdin' 'em down
where the grass was good and
sendin' me to get 'em up at night.
The geese had got so they knew me,
and would come when I called 'em,
and generally they'd come when I'd
got to the top Of the hill that looked
down on the river and blew on the
~ ol<1 raA <ol
old gander'd squawk once or twice,
and the whole bflin' Of 'em would
pint for me, and I'd drive 'em home.
guess there was four hundred Of
EN-.
zone evenin' 1 went down for the
geese, and when fetched the top Of
the hill and looked down onto the nat
there wasn't goose there-they was
all out in the blight of the river, hud-
died together in bunch. lookin' like
half an acre of snow ice. Their heads
was all p'intin' one way. and when I
hove in sight they set up squallin'
that all but deefened me. never
heard such n touse!
Thinks I. There's fox there.
mebbe, and I sneaked down over the
grass to'rds the place where their
heads was p'intin'. There was little
clump of basket willow there on the
aidge of the bank, and the geese SEEM
ed to be squallin' at somethin' hid
there. jealoused 1t would be a good
prank for me to jump into that bunch
of willows and let out a blast on my
bugle when l lit. figgered It would
give that fox somethin' to think Of all
the rest of his days.
$50 down that slope I went, and
when I come over against the bunch Of
bushes I gathered myself and lep' up
and out-and while 1 was in the air
I'd a give anything In the world to
be able to turn and jump back without
lightin', for 1t wasn't a fox at all; 1t
was bear, black as a winter mink.
and as big. seemin'ly, as any COW we
had! He was Jest risin' to his hind
feet and he had his for'ard paws
stretched out to'rds me, and lit right
in 'em, % all he had to do was to
hug me and that'd be the last Of me.
at wasn't a question of seconds
even 1t was time reckoned by winks
of the eye, or less. that the rest Of 1t
happened. Just as come down into
the bears arms. as you might say. his
ear came at the mouth of the bugle,
where I'd set it to my mouth as I'd
jumped, and with the last bit Of
breath and strength had, blowed a
blast into his cara blast At to stir
the dead:
"And with that blast" the old man
always finished. II felt his arms, that