Part 3

But he was hardly aware of this change. He still thought of himself as a little bear, but had Loup the Lynx seen him now it is doubtful if he would have been so free to attack him. Loup had a wholesome respect for a full grown bear. It was only the young cubs that he liked to tackle and eat.

But if Buster wasn’t aware of his growing size and strength his two captors were. That was why they kept him chained up at night and always carried a long pointed pole when they took him out on the street. They were afraid that some day Buster would realize his strength, and then all would be up with their control of him.

The day came, however, when Buster suddenly found that his muscles were powerful and his strength greater than that of his masters. They had been traveling all day from one small town to another, gathering in a few pennies here and there, and resting by the way-side whenever opportunity offered. It was a hot day, and the road was dusty and rough.

When they came to a small brook the sight of the cool, sweet water brought to Buster’s mind pictures of the broad river that ran in front of the cave where he was born. A great desire to plunge in the stream and wallow in the cool water seized him. With this idea in mind he quickened his pace, and started down the embankment.

A sudden jerk of the chain around his neck brought him to his senses, but with an angry toss of the head he continued on, dragging the man behind him. In vain the man tugged at the chain, shouting to his companion, who came up and began prodding Buster with the sharp end of the long pole.

But Buster wanted to get in the brook. Nothing in all his life had ever appealed so much to him. The dust and dirt in his mouth, ears and nose irritated him. Instead of stopping he slapped at the pole and continued on his way.

Then something happened that aroused him to fury. The man gave him such a vicious jab with the sharpened pole that it made him grunt and squeal. Heretofore such cruel treatment had always cowered Buster, but it had an opposite effect on him now. It aroused his fury.

With a quick, lightening-like stroke he grasped the pole in his two paws, and before either of his captors could recover from their surprise he snapped it in two. It was all done so quickly that even Buster was surprised.

Seeing the instrument of his torture lying broken on the ground, Buster smiled, and leered at the men. Something in their eyes attracted his attention. It was fear! Buster read it as clearly as if it had been printed there in large letters.

His captors were afraid of him! They had lost their pointed pole, and thus disarmed they were no longer able to torment. Buster was the master of the situation. A great feeling of exultation swelled up in him. His eyes gleamed and flashed.

Then with a roar he turned on the one holding the chain and struck savagely at him. What happened filled Buster with glee. The man dropped the chain and fled with cries of fright. Buster pursued a few yards, and then sat down on his haunches and laughed.

“Ho! Ho! They’re afraid of me!” he said. “I won’t have to be their slave any more! All I’ve got to do is to growl at them, and strike them!”

He got up and strutted around. He was a free bear once more. Never more would he be a captive. He waddled down to the brook and plunged into the cool water. He washed and drank and gurgled to his heart’s content. Once or twice his captors approached, and tried to coax him out, but he turned on them with a snarl and made them run away again.

Then they disappeared entirely, and Buster was left alone to enjoy his bath. But his freedom wasn’t to last for long, although he didn’t know it at the time.

Now as it happened there was a circus in the town a few miles back, and his two masters who cared more about the money value of Buster than anything else, decided that it was a good chance to make a bargain. They knew that they would never be able to control their half-grown bear once he had discovered his strength and power. He was henceforth useless for their work.

But a circus was different. Buster would be valuable in the circus either as a trick animal or as a dangerous man-eating creature that had to be kept caged all the time. People would pay money to view a bear that no man could tame. Of course, Buster was no such wild animal, and he had no intention of killing any one, but the fact that he had broken away from captivity and refused to be captured again furnished the foundation for a story that he was a wild, desperate animal that could not be tamed.

Buster was lying on the grass near the brook, enjoying a quiet snooze, when he was startled by the appearance of half a dozen men armed with sticks and pitchforks. He raised his head and looked mildly at them. Behind walked the two men who had cruelly tormented him.

“There he is!” shouted one. “Look out for him, or he’ll jump on you!”

Buster growled when he heard that familiar voice, and rose on his two hind legs to face the approaching crowd. Some of them stopped and refused to go any further; but two or three approached warily. They were armed with clubs and pitchforks, but one of them carried a long rope looped over an arm. Buster didn’t know what this was for, and he turned his attention to the men with the clubs.

He growled and stepped toward them. They retreated a few steps--all except the man with the rope. He seemed cool and unafraid. Buster eyed him curiously when he raised an arm and twirled the rope over his head. He even watched the rope circle in the air and come toward him.

It was not until the rope looped over his head and settled on his shoulders that he understood; but it was too late then. The man jerked it, and Buster felt something around his neck that choked him almost to death. He tore at it with his paws, but before he could rip it off another from behind caught him.

Buster fought fiercely for a few moments, but when the men armed with pointed sticks and clubs ran in and began prodding him sharply every time he tore at the rope he began to grow afraid again. He was no match for all these men, especially when his neck was being squeezed so that he could barely draw a decent breath.

When he quieted down, the men stopped prodding him, and Buster soon found that it didn’t pay to fight against such heavy odds. Only when his former captors came near him did he growl and show signs of anger.

Buster was led back a few miles and placed in a cage with iron bars. There was plenty of food and water in the cage, and he was glad to get inside with the ropes off his neck. Buster had joined the circus!

But would his new life be happier than the old? Had he jumped from the frying-pan into the fire, or were there days ahead when he could enjoy life once more without the fear of being beaten for every little mistake? He didn’t know, but he slept soundly and peacefully that night even if he was a prisoner in an iron cage.

What happened to him in the circus will form part of the next story, called Buster’s First Public Appearance.

STORY VIII

BUSTER’S FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE

The cage in which Buster was kept was rather small, but it was clean and fresh, with plenty of straw on the bottom, and a blanket stretched on one side to shield him from the draft. There were other cages in the place, and after the first night he began to get acquainted with their occupants.

On his right there was an old Lion, who had lost most of his teeth and much of his hair. He snored so loudly the first night that Buster was twice awakened by what he thought was the roll of thunder. When morning dawned he asked the Old Lion if he always snored like that.

“Yes, when I’m asleep, but when I’m awake I snore like this.”

To Buster’s surprise he opened his mouth and let out a roar that shook the whole place and started every animal crying and snarling. Spot the Leopard, who was caged on Buster’s left, growled and spit ferociously as he sprang from one side of his cage to the other. But the Old Lion sat back on his haunches and roared with laughter.

“What did you do that for?” asked Buster, when the wild commotion began to subside.

“Just to show you how I snore in the day time,” was the retort. “You want to hear it again?”

“No, thank you, once is enough.”

“Well, if you say so, I won’t,” replied the Old Lion. “But after you’ve been here a long time you’ll be glad to hear me roar. It breaks up the monotony. There’s nothing else to do, you know, and it gets dreadfully tiresome doing nothing. Heigh-o! it’s a dull life!”

He yawned and stretched himself. Spot the Leopard on the other side stopped his snarling, and glanced between his bars at Buster. He was interested in this new-comer, and he continued to stare so long that Buster finally smiled back at him and nodded his head.

“How did they catch you?” Spot asked suddenly.

“With a rope,” replied Buster. “I wasn’t expecting it, and they dropped it over my head before I could run.”

Spot spit and snarled again to show his temper. “They caught me when I was a cub,” he said. “They wouldn’t have caught me if I was full grown. They’re afraid of me now. Every time my trainer comes in I snarl and snap at her. She snaps the whip in my face, and I pretend to be afraid of it. But I’m not! I’m just waiting my chance. Some day I’ll pounce on her, and then--”

He swished his long tail and licked his lips, while his eyes glowed balefully.

“What sort of a trainer have you?” asked Buster. “Is she good to you?”

“There she comes now,” whispered Spot. “You can see for yourself.”

Buster turned and saw a young woman, dressed in a dazzling, sparkling costume of many colors, with a small cap surmounting her golden hair, and a thick, rawhide whip in her hand. There was a fearless look in the dark eyes, and when she strode up to Buster’s cage she surveyed him quite calmly. Buster returned her stare, and blinked two or three times.

“He doesn’t look so ugly,” the woman said finally, addressing one of the attendants. “If I know anything about bears, I should say he was naturally good-humored. But of course you can’t tell. His temper may have been ruined by some one. His name is Buster, you say?”

She walked up to the cage and stuck a hand between the bars and patted the shaggy head. “Well, Buster, we’re either going to be friends or enemies,” she added. “Which is it?”

Buster couldn’t reply right away, so surprised was he, but unconsciously he stuck out his tongue and licked the hand. How soft and velvety it felt! Instead of drawing the hand away, she permitted him to lick it again. Then she smiled.

“You can see,” she said, speaking to the attendant, “he’s answered my question. We’re going to be friends. Now open the door for me. I’m going inside.”

Once more Buster was surprised, but not nearly so much as the attendant. “Don’t do it, Chiquita,” he said in alarm. “He’s not to be trusted. He’s a vicious brute.”

Chiquita smiled and put on her gloves.

“Do I need your advice, Billy,” she said, “when it comes to training animals? Now please open the door.”

“But, Chiquita, you will wait until I summon the attendants to protect you if he attacks you.”

“No, I’m going in now.”

She opened the door herself and stepped in the cage. Buster watched her with eyes of admiration and surprise. He had no fear of her. This dainty little creature could not hurt him. Indeed, she looked so slight and helpless that he felt more like protecting her than hurting her.

She came up to him and rubbed his nose. He grunted with pleasure. Then she patted his head and talked to him in a low, sweet voice. Then she asked him to get down, and when he obeyed she sat on him. She touseled his head, opened his mouth and stuck a hand in it, and finally patted him again, and said:

“He’s all right, Billy, as harmless as a kitten. We’ll put him in the circus tonight in place of poor old Bowser.”

Billy, the attendant, wasn’t convinced of the wisdom of this course, and shook his head, but Chiquita laughed and walked out of the cage.

Buster didn’t know just what they meant, for he had never been in a circus before, but that evening he learned.

He was wheeled into a brilliantly lighted place and stopped alongside of a big circular cage containing nearly a dozen other animals. There was the Old Lion, Spot the Leopard, Boar the Hound, Timber the Wolf, Ocelot the Jungle Cat, and several others which he did not instantly recognize.

His coming started up a commotion among the animals, for just like people they were curious and inquisitive. They eyed him furtively and sniffed at him. But without noticing them he waddled across the big cage and took a vacant place near the Old Lion.

Then something happened that dazzled him. The curtain around the big circular cage disappeared, and a sea of human faces were visible on every side. The lights went up, and the whole place seemed like a wonderful picture.

The next moment Chiquita entered the cage, holding her whip in one hand and a flag in the other. She gave a few sharp orders and the animals began to pose, dance and run around. It was all new to Buster and a little confusing, but he tried to follow and imitate the others. Apparently this pleased Chiquita, for she patted him once, and whispered in his ear:

“Well done, Buster! You’re doing splendidly!”

Buster noticed that Spot the Leopard was often surly and ugly, refusing to obey until Chiquita hit him with the whip. This made him mind, but it didn’t improve his temper any. His surliness made the others nervous, and once they got all snarled up and confused.

“You, Spot,” cried Chiquita, “I’ll punish you if you don’t behave. Now take that!”

She gave him a sharp rap over the nose with her whip. It stung and enraged Spot, who cowered back a moment, and then crouched for a leap. Chiquita saw what was coming, but she didn’t flinch. She snapped the whip in his face again, but this time the trick didn’t work.

Spot flung himself through the air in a mighty leap, uttering a low savage growl, which excited the other animals so they set up a wild roar. Attendants ran to the cage with long irons and sticks in their hands, but Chiquita was penned against the iron bars, vainly trying to hold Spot off at arms’ length. There was a great shout outside, and everybody stood up, with fear and horror in their eyes.

In the midst of the confusion, Buster suddenly came to life. He had taken no part in the commotion, but when he saw Spot attacking Chiquita, whose white face and appealing eyes were turned toward him, his anger flared up. He would not stand by idly while the Leopard tore and scratched the white flesh of his friend.

With a low growl, Buster started across the cage, baring his teeth in an ugly grin, and holding aloft a paw ready to strike. The other animals stood aside to let him pass, but Spot was snapping and snarling at Chiquita so that he did not see him.

How Buster saved Chiquita from Spot the Leopard, and won her undying friendship, will be told in the next story.

STORY IX

BUSTER SAVES CHIQUITA

Spot the Leopard had attacked Chiquita so suddenly that she had little chance of defending herself, and the other animals, excited by the commotion, were ready to join in the attack against their fair trainer.

Buster had not been in the circus long enough to learn the ways of the other animals. Chiquita had been kind to him, and after the cruel treatment from his former masters it seemed as if the dainty young trainer was more than a friend to him. He recalled Spot’s threat to pounce upon Chiquita some day and punish her.

Buster resolved, as he crossed the cage in a few long strides, to protect Chiquita, and if necessary to fight Spot the Leopard. He was angry with Spot, but not so much as to inflict serious injury on him. It was only when he got close and saw the deep scratch on Chiquita’s arm where the Leopard’s claws had laid the flesh open, that his anger flared up to white heat.

With a deeper growl than before, he raised his right paw and delivered a telling blow on Spot’s body. It was not intended as a knock-out blow, but Buster had grown to powerful proportions, and his most playful cuff was enough to do considerable damage.

It landed with a deep thud on Spot’s side, and the Leopard was hurled to the other side of the cage with a bang. He struck the iron bars, and for a moment seemed too stunned or surprised to utter a sound. Buster calmly stood in front of Chiquita and glared defiantly at his enemy.

Spot recovered his senses after a while and let out a growl and screech that made every one in the circus shudder. He crouched down low, swishing his tail, and glaring at Buster. It was a moment of intense suspense.

To make matters worse the other animals kept up their uproar. The fight had stirred their blood, and they began crouching and stalking about the cage as if anxious to get in the fray. Ocelot the Jungle Cat in particular showed great excitement. He began creeping upon Buster from behind, and Timber the Wolf sneaked in closer to get a chance.

Buster through the corner of his eyes noticed the restless, threatening motions of the two. Boar the Hound ran around, barking vigorously, but made no attempt to take any part in the fight. The Old Lion, who was too sleepy and indolent even to roar, sat apart as if he was to be the judge of the contest.

Chiquita, who was slightly wounded, cowered back of her defender, unable to get her whip or to make her voice heard. A thousand spectators outside watched with horrified eyes the combat. Attendants were running around with long poles and irons to prod the animals back to their corners, but they were so excited they did little good.

Suddenly Spot the Leopard took advantage of a moment when Buster was watching Ocelot the Jungle Cat. He sprang at his enemy like an arrow from a bow. At the same instant Ocelot closed in, and Timber the Wolf watched for his opportunity.

But Buster hadn’t been taken off his guard. He had kept one eye on Spot, and when he shot through the air that powerful right paw of his was raised again. It caught Spot in mid-air. It was no gentle blow this time. It was delivered with all the force that lay behind those powerful shoulder muscles.

It landed on Spot’s body with such a thud that it could be heard in every corner of the great circus. The Leopard was hurled back against the iron bars with such force that it seemed for a moment as if they would give way. Spot grunted, and dropped to the floor in such a dazed state of mind that he couldn’t think or act.

Buster having delivered this knock-out blow turned swiftly to Ocelot, whose claws had sunk into his shaggy leg. The huge paw came down on Ocelot’s head and nearly crushed the skull. He dropped his hold and lay down as if suddenly struck by lightning.

Buster, smarting with the pain in his leg, growled in rage, and turned to Timber the Wolf. Now Timber was naturally a coward. The punishment meted out to Spot and Ocelot immediately caused him to change his mind. He ran around the cage as Buster started in pursuit.

A temper, once it gets beyond control, is a terrible thing to have. It may lead into all sorts of trouble. Buster by this time had lost his completely. He was so enraged that he wanted to kill everything in the cage. His eyes grew blood-shot and terrible to look at.

He lunged at Timber, and missed him, but the Old Lion happened to be in the way. Buster gave him a side cuff that made him roar with pain. It was a glancing blow. If Old Lion hadn’t been so old that most of his teeth were gone he would have struck back, and Buster would have been in a peck of trouble. He didn’t know much about lions in those days.

The next animal that got in his way was Boar the Hound, which he sent whimpering across the cage. Then he came to Spot, who was just recovering his senses, and with an angry snarl hit him again and stood before him like a cat over a mouse as if defying him to run or strike back.

Round and round the cage Buster pursued the animals, striking right and left, and tumbling them all in a heap whenever he got within striking distance. Ocelot climbed to the top of the iron bars and crouched there in shivering terror.

Timber the Wolf leaped and jumped over the backs of the others, and thus escaped serious injury. It was a mix-up that threatened to end in a terrible tragedy. Buster was master of the situation, and so enraged that he continually saw red. The pandemonium outside, and the quickly thrusting sticks and irons of the attendants, had no effect on his temper. He ignored the noise, and merely snapped and snarled at the sharp irons every time they got in his way.

Then Chiquita, who had been cowering in her corner in fright, suddenly regained control of her nerves. She picked up her whip, but did not use it. Instead she walked calmly up to the enraged bear, and said sharply:

“Buster! Buster!”

Buster stopped short as if pricked by a needle. When his name was repeated in that soft voice, he closed his dripping jaws and ceased growling.

“Buster, come here!” added Chiquita.

It was a soft, soothing command, and it fell on Buster’s excited nerves like cooling balm. He looked at Chiquita, and then without so much as a grunt waddled toward her.

What followed made every one in the vast audience gasp. Chiquita, ignoring her danger, suddenly put her two arms around Buster’s neck, and actually wept on his shaggy breast.

“Buster, you saved my life,” she said gently. “Spot would surely have killed me if you hadn’t come to my help. You dear old Buster!”

Buster’s emotions cannot be described. All his rage suddenly vanished. He put a paw on Chiquita’s shoulders, and then fearful of hurting her, dropped it to his side.

She raised her head from his breast, and added: “Now come with me. Take me outside.”

And leading Buster she walked across the cage, opened the door and stepped out. Buster meekly followed. Outside she led him by a paw across the arena, and faced the great audience. “You have seen what happened,” she said in a clear voice. “Can you wonder that I love Buster the Bear?”

The audience went wild, shouting and waving to them, and Buster was so confused he hardly knew what to do. In the next story Buster becomes a famous trick bear.

STORY X

BUSTER BECOMES A TRICK BEAR

Buster was not popular among the animals of the circus after his fight with Spot the Leopard, but he was a great favorite with the circus people. From being regarded as a dangerous bear, ready to kill his trainer at any moment, he was looked upon thereafter as a special pet who could be trusted by every one.

Of course, it was Chiquita who favored him the most. She bestowed more attention upon him than on any of the others. She petted him, praised him, feeding him dainties, and giving him the softest bed in the place. She even permitted him to roam about the rooms she occupied, and as Buster did not get in mischief or do any harm his liberty was extended day by day.

Buster grew as fond of Chiquita as she was of him, and he obeyed her as meekly and willingly as a pet dog. None of the ugly temper he showed when fighting Spot in the cage showed itself again, and Chiquita began training him for trick performances.

Buster had already received a little training, and he was quick to pick up his new lessons. He soon learned to jump through a hoop, skip rope, and turn somersaults back and forth. Then one day, Chiquita said:

“You would make a good clown, Buster, I believe. Yes, you would.”

Not knowing what a clown was, Buster merely grinned and nodded his head. Chiquita made a wonderful dress for him out of red, white and blue flannel, and with a tall hat on his head Buster looked like the cartoon of Uncle Sam. Dressed as the goddess of liberty, Chiquita appeared in the arena walking arm in arm with her escort.