Part 5
“What’s that!” exclaimed the little girl, hopping out of the bed, and running to the window in her bare feet.
Buster could have told her what the noise meant, and for a moment he thought it was his duty to give himself up to keep the little girl from being harmed. Suppose the crowd searching for him should hurt her! He got up, and tried to pull her away from the window, but she pushed him back quickly.
“Go back, Buster!” she cried. “They’re looking for you, but they won’t have you. They mustn’t see you!”
The dogs below were barking. They had tracked Buster to the woodshed, and were now holding their nose up in the air baying loudly. As plain as words they were saying the bear had climbed to the roof of the shed.
The men saw the open window, and immediately a hoarse cry rose. “He’s gone in that window! He’s eating up little Nell! Oh! Oh!”
You could imagine Buster’s emotions when he heard this outcry. To be accused of eating up little Nell was enough to make any self-respecting bear angry. He growled savagely, and started for the window again. But the little girl restrained him once more.
“No, no, Buster, you mustn’t let them see you!” she cried. “Now let me think! What ought I to do? They’ll be here soon. Yes,” glancing out of the window, “they’re climbing up the shed. Oh, Buster, hide under the bed!”
Buster obeyed, but he might just as well have tried to crawl through the key-hole of the lock on the door. He couldn’t possibly squeeze under the bed without upsetting it.
“Dear me,” added Nell, biting her lips, “where can I hide you?”
She looked at the closet filled with her pretty clothes. She ran to it and looked in. It was such a small closet that Buster couldn’t possibly crowd in it.
“I don’t know, Buster,” she added, “what I can do.” She looked at her trunk. No, of course, not; she couldn’t get Buster in that. The bureau next, and then the wash-stand. Not one of them was big enough to hold one of Buster’s hind legs.
They could hear the men climbing to the roof of the shed now. In a few moments they would appear at the open window with their shot-guns and pitchforks. The little girl was more excited than Buster. Suddenly an idea came to her, and she gasped with delight.
“Here, Buster,” she called sharply, seizing him by a paw. “You must lie down on the floor at the foot of the bed. Get way down! No, no, not that way! This way! Pull your legs up like a cat cuddling up before the fire. There, that’s right. Now don’t you move or make a sound. You hear me?”
She shook a finger warningly at him. She had made Buster curl up on the floor at the foot of the bed in the smallest space he had ever before occupied. It was not a comfortable position for him, but for the little girl’s sake he was satisfied to stay there.
Then Nell pulled the clothes down, and threw them over the foot-board of the bed and spread them out on the floor until Buster was completely covered. She laid the pillows on top just as if they had been put there to air. She had been taught to do this every morning after rising, and then open the window for the fresh air to blow in.
The men appeared at the window just as she had finished. Without waiting for an invitation they climbed in.
“Where is he?” they asked. “Where’s the bear? We thought he was in here eating you up, Nell.”
They were glancing all around the room, and if Buster hadn’t been so well concealed they would have seen him. Nell turned to them with dignity, and said in her high little voice:
“What an idea! Is there a bear around here? Oh, I’d dearly like to see him! I know he wouldn’t hurt me! Where did he come from? Is he outside?”
She ran to the window and looked out. Satisfied now that Buster was not in the room, the men climbed out, but they closed the window after them, and said: “Keep that shut, Nell!”
In the next story Buster is discovered in the house.
STORY XIV
BUSTER TRIES TO ESCAPE AND IS DISCOVERED
When the men left the room and closed the window after them, Buster and the little girl felt greatly relieved. Satisfied that the bear had not climbed in the open window, the searching party turned their attention elsewhere. But the danger wasn’t over yet, and Nell knew it. She patted the top of the bed-clothes, and whispered:
“Keep quiet a little longer, Buster. Here comes some one up the stairs.”
Buster grunted and lay as still as a mouse. There was a knocking on the door, and when the little girl opened it her father appeared. He was very white and trembling.
“A bear that escaped from the railroad wreck is roaming around here, Nell,” he said. “I was terribly afraid he had climbed up the shed to your room. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
He kissed her and seemed greatly relieved to find his daughter safe. He crossed the room and looked out of the window. Then he returned to her.
“Perhaps you’re safer here until they find him,” he added. “Stay right here in your room, and keep the door and window locked. I’ll come and tell you when they find him.”
The little girl could have laughed in her glee, for this was just what she wanted. She was terribly afraid Buster would smother under all those clothes and make a noise. She couldn’t get her father out of the room quick enough.
When he was gone, and the door locked, she ran to the bed, and threw back the clothes. Buster was all curled up just as she had left him. But he was fast asleep! It was a warm, comfortable bed, and after his long run and heavy breakfast of pies, rolls, bread and milk it had seemed impossible to keep his eyes open for long. And the moment he closed them he was sound asleep.
The little girl sat down on the floor, and laughed until the tears streamed down her cheeks. Buster woke with a start and blinked at her. He couldn’t for several minutes imagine where he was.
“Oh, Buster,” she exclaimed finally, “I thought you were being smothered to death, and you were so comfortable you fell asleep.”
Buster struggled to his feet and began chuckling. It made him happy to see the merriment of the little girl. She pulled the clothes up and flung them back on the bed. She was a very prim little housekeeper, for she was not satisfied until the pillows were brushed off and patted in position and the sheets and covers carefully smoothed out.
Buster watched her in silence, and then in his clumsy way offered to help, but he pulled the clothes so hard, and made such a general mess of it, that he stopped when the girl sat down and laughed again at him.
“I never saw anybody so clumsy, Buster,” she said. “No, you can’t help any more. You sit down there in the middle of the floor until I’m through. Then we’ll have breakfast together.”
The moment she uttered these words she stopped. Have breakfast together? How could she arrange that? How, in fact, could she manage to get Buster any breakfast without somebody discovering him in her room?
What did bears eat anyway? And how much? Goodness, from the size of him, he might eat her father out of house and home! The little girl felt terribly distressed all of a sudden. She had saved Buster from his pursuers, but now that she had him what was she going to do with him?
You couldn’t keep bears in a bed-room or closet, nor could you chain them up in the back yard like a dog? Everybody would be afraid to visit the house, and all the servants would leave. What could she do?
“Buster, haven’t you any home you can go to?” she asked suddenly, turning to him. Then she remembered what her father had told her. The train carrying the circus animals had been wrecked, and some of the people and animals killed. Of course, the circus people would like Buster back again, but was he happy there? Or did he run away because they treated him cruelly?
“Buster, do you want to go back to the circus?” she added after a pause. “For if you do I’ll have to tell them you’re here, and if they want you they’ll call for you.”
Now Buster had no desire just then to return to the circus. He thought it would be much nicer to live with the little girl and play with her. So he shook his head vigorously, which made the girl sigh, and say solemnly: “Then you won’t have to go back! I’ll keep you here!”
She cleaned up things in the room, and dressed herself. Her breakfast was waiting for her downstairs, and if she didn’t go soon her father would be up after her.
“Buster,” she said once more, laying a hand on his head, “I’m going down now to get my breakfast, and then I’ll bring you something to eat--some sugar and coffee, and jam and--and--what do you like to eat?”
Buster only grinned and shook his head. The little girl was puzzled. “I know what I’ll do,” she added, smiling. “I’ll ask my father. He’s wise and knows everything, and he’ll tell me what bears eat. I know he’ll like you, Buster.”
Of course, Buster wasn’t quite so sure of this, but he had no way to express his doubts. He heard the little girl running down the stairs, and then for a long time he was left alone. It was a queer situation for him. He walked across the room, and the floor squeaked with every tread. Then he looked out of the window and immediately ducked his head, for there was a man and dog below on guard.
He waited a long time for the little girl to return, and then grew restless. He tried the door, and finding it unlocked opened it and stuck his head out. All was quiet in the house. He couldn’t hear any one around.
A great fear that something had happened to the little girl suddenly made him very anxious. Perhaps the men and dogs had captured her, and were holding her because she had hid him in her bed-room. This thought made him angry. If she was in trouble and needed him, he would go to her assistance.
Buster closed the door softly behind him and started down the stairs. Now that he was going to the little girl’s assistance he wasn’t afraid of anything. He hadn’t been afraid to attack all the animals in the big cage when Chiquita was in danger. Then why should he be afraid now!
Down, down the stairs he clumped, his great weight making each step squeak and groan. Nobody was in the hall below, and the whole house seemed quiet and deserted. Had the men taken the little girl away with them? Buster uttered an angry growl and took another step down.
Then directly in front of him appeared a man. He stepped out of a doorway so suddenly that both bear and man were surprised. Buster recognized him immediately as the gentleman who held the little girl’s hands that day she fed him a stick of candy.
The man started suddenly, stared at the bear on the stairs, and backed slowly away. “Nell! Nell!” he called. “Keep away! Go back! The bear is in the house! Run for your life and tell the men!”
But little Nell, instead of running away, pushed past her father and surprised him so that he nearly dropped down with fright. She ran straight up to Buster and hugged him. Then laughing she turned to her father.
“It’s only Buster, and he wouldn’t hurt me. Why, he’s been in my bed-room all the time!”
What they decided to do with Buster after that will be told in the next story.
STORY XV
BUSTER IS TO BE SENT TO THE ZOO
It seemed almost like a fairy story to the little girl’s father when she told him how Buster had climbed through the window of her room, and how she had covered him up with the bed-clothes to protect him from the men. And he didn’t believe in fairy stories! In fact, he didn’t believe just then that he was awake and hearing things. It surely was all a dream.
But there was Buster on the stairs, and his little girl hugging the great big, shaggy creature. Why, with one blow the bear could crush the life out of her! It made him tremble to think of it. He tried to call her away, but she didn’t hear him. She was talking to Buster, who seemed to understand.
“Now, papa, you see he won’t hurt me,” she said finally, “and I won’t let the men hurt him. We must do something for him.”
“Yes, yes, dear,” was the stammering reply. “But what?”
“Can’t we keep him here?”
The man smiled for the first time. “Where----in your bed-room?”
“No-o, but maybe outdoors. I think he likes outdoors the best.”
“But, dear, he would never be happy here, and he’d frighten all of our neighbors. He may be good to you, but he might be ugly to others.”
“Not if they were kind to him,” was the confident answer.
“Maybe not! Maybe not! But we must think of it.”
He was quiet for a moment, watching Buster out of the corner of his eyes. He was less afraid of the bear than at first. Something in his eyes made him think that perhaps his little girl’s trust was not misplaced after all. But he had a natural fear of all wild animals, and did not like to run any risks.
“I’ll tell you, dear,” he added finally, “we’ll put Buster in the cellar until the men have gone, and then--then we’ll telegraph to the owners of the circus. They will come for him, and he’ll be better off with them than with us.”
“But maybe he ran away from the circus because they were cruel to him,” protested Nell. “I don’t want him to go back then.”
“I don’t know about that, but I read in the papers that the circus people are going out of business. Their loss of animals in the smash-up decided them to give up the show business. Chiquita, their famous trainer, was injured so she’ll never go back to performing again. I believe she’s in the hospital now, and won’t be out for a month or two.”
Now all this was news to Buster. They couldn’t understand how eager he was to learn all about the circus. If Chiquita was injured in the wreck, then perhaps Spot and Ocelot and Old Lion were hurt, too, or even dead.
It made him very sad, for it meant the end of his circus life. He would never want to perform for another trainer now that Chiquita was gone. Poor Chiquita! Buster shed a tear for her, for she had been his dear friend, and he knew now that he couldn’t help her or ever see her again.
“Then, papa,” broke in little Nell again, “we can keep Buster, can’t we?”
“Only a few days, dear,” was the smiling reply. “We have no place to keep him, and I’m sure he’d soon try to escape.”
The little girl pouted, and looked anxiously at Buster before speaking. “Then what will become of him?” she added. “He won’t have any home at all. That will be dreadful, papa, and he’s been so good to me.”
“Ah!” exclaimed her father suddenly, his eyes brightening. “I have it. We’ll send him to the Zoo. We’ll make them a present of him if the circus people don’t come to claim him.”
The little girl was not exactly sure that she approved of this, and she continued pouting and looking at Buster. “But won’t they shut him up in a cage, and keep him there all the time?” she queried. “I don’t think I’d like to be caged forever and forever, would you?”
The question was addressed to her father, but Buster answered it with a vigorous shake of the head. He didn’t know anything about the Zoo. It was a place he had never heard about, but if they kept bears caged up there all the time he didn’t care to know more about it. It certainly was a dreadful place.
He had often pitied Spot and Ocelot for being shut up in their cages all the time, but he blamed them a good deal for that. They wouldn’t behave themselves decently, and it served them right. But that was no reason why he should be kept in a cage all the rest of his life. No, he preferred to be free.
“My dear,” Buster heard the father say after a pause, “that is the only wise thing to do. Keeping him here is simply out of the question. We must put him in the cellar until I can notify the authorities. Then they’ll put him in a cage at the Zoo, and you can go and see him as often as you like.”
The thought of being able to see Buster at the Zoo made her feel better, and she turned and whispered to him: “I’ll come every week to see you, Buster, and I’ll bring you sugar and peanuts and candy, and everything.”
Buster smiled, for he knew that she meant what she said, but he was greatly troubled in mind. Could he, for the sake of seeing the little girl once a week, endure prison for the rest of his life? All the outdoor freedom would then be denied him. He couldn’t walk around, nor perform before people in the circus; he couldn’t even crawl under a pile of canvas or a clump of bushes to sleep. He would always be behind those iron bars.
He remembered how Old Lion had complained of the monotony of life in the cage, and Old Lion had grown old and weak in doing nothing. Spot, Ocelot and Timber had never become reconciled to their captivity, but paced their cages day and night longing to escape.
Buster drew a great sigh, and glanced out of the window. He saw green trees, smiling fields and tinkling brook. Ah, how he loved those! No, he could not leave them forever. He started for the outside door as if to leave the house.
“Don’t let him out, Nell,” the little girl’s father said. “The men and dogs are out there. Do you think you can get him down the cellar for the night?”
“Yes, papa, he’ll come with me,” was the answer. “Won’t you, Buster?”
Buster nodded, and followed her. He had no wish to go outside and fall in the hands of his pursuers. So he meekly followed the little girl down the stairs to the cellar where he was safe from all his enemies. It was a wide, roomy cellar, and Buster felt quite content there, but the thought that the men might call for him on the morrow to take him away to the Zoo spoilt his happiness.
When the little girl left him, he had made up his mind. Before morning he would break out of the cellar and escape. There had come into his mind a vision of the woods where he had been born, and a great desire to find his way back. Could he do it? In the next story you will hear how he set out on his long journey, and what happened to him.
STORY XVI
BUSTER RETURNS TO THE NORTH WOODS
Buster spent the rest of the day in the cellar of the house where the little girl lived, sleeping part of the time and playing with his little friend whenever she had the time to come down. There were many things in the cellar that smelt good--jams and jellies stored away in a closet, potatoes, apples and cabbages in bins, and boxes full of dry groceries--but Buster did not touch any of these. He ate what the little girl fed him, and nothing else.
As the day dragged along, and night approached, he thought more and more of the North Woods where he had been born. He saw the beautiful river that flowed past the cave, heard the tinkling of the waves and the songs of the birds, and sniffed the fragrance of the millions of wild flowers. He thought of his mother, who had mourned his death--of Loup the Lynx, who had driven him from home, and made him an exile.
And the more he thought of these things, the more anxious he was to return to the woods. He was not needed in the circus now. Chiquita had gone, and he would never find another trainer like her. The little girl was his friend and loved him, but he could have no home with her. Then the place for him was in the woods where he would be free to roam about and hunt as he chose.
It was nearly dark when the little girl said good-night to him. She kissed him on the tip of the nose, and Buster felt a desire to take her in his arms and hug her. But he knew that would never do. His gentlest hug might break her little bones and kill her. So he contented himself with a smile and grin, and waved a paw to her as she closed the door.
Buster ate the supper she had brought down to him. He felt that he needed it all for his great journey. It might be days before he could get another such supper. It was quite dark outside when he had finished.
But there were lights upstairs and sounds of voices. Buster sat down and waited until they had all gone to bed, and the house was as quiet as a mouse. Then he got up and began preparing for his escape. The windows were out of the question, for they were too small for him to crawl through. So he devoted himself to breaking through the outside door.
This was locked, but Buster leaned his heavy weight against it until the lock creaked and then snapped. The door sprung open so suddenly that he tumbled outside all in a heap. The night was clear and quiet. The noise made by the bursting of the lock did not seem to disturb anybody, and Buster started across the fields in a slow jog trot.
When he reached the border of the swamp, he skirted the edge instead of plunging through it. He finally came out on the road where he had frightened the man carrying a basket of pies and rolls. He smiled at the remembrance of it, and wondered if the man would come again with another basketful of good things.
Buster had started out with the intention of finding his way back to the North Woods, but he soon found himself in a quandary. Which way should he go to find them? And how far off were they?
He might have been compelled, after all, to return to the little girl’s house and go to the Zoo for the rest of his days, if he hadn’t stumbled by accident upon Sleepy the Opossum cuddled up in a crotch of a tree.
“Hello, Sleepy,” he called, “can you direct me to the North Woods, and tell me how far I must travel to reach them?”
“Follow the wind, Buster,” replied Sleepy, “and travel day and night until you get there. That’s all I know.”
The wind was blowing from the north, and after traveling in that direction all night, crossing fields, woods and swamps, he came to rest in a dense thicket. “I’ll sleep here,” he said, “until night, and then go on.”
He didn’t want to show himself in the day time, and so he slept soundly all day. When he stretched himself toward sundown, he saw Curly the Skunk nearby watching.
“How far is it to the North Woods, Curly?” he asked. “And which way do I go?”
“It’s far again as you’ve traveled, Buster,” was the reply, “and it will take you twice as long to reach it, for there’s a big river to cross. Follow the moon, and you won’t miss it.”
Buster thanked him for this information, and as there was a bright moon he had no trouble in keeping in the right direction. As on the previous night he traveled until the dawn of a new day, and then once more sought refuge in a dense swamp to sleep.
He was awake bright and early, rising before the moon was up. This time he asked Washer the Raccoon, who responded promptly:
“Follow the trail made by White Tail the Deer until you come to the river. Then cross it, if you can. It’s a long swim, and I wouldn’t like to undertake it.”
Again Buster thanked his little forest friend, and resumed his hard journey. He was pretty tired and dirty by this time, for he had walked through swamps and thickets of briars in the dark, and had fallen and stumbled a number of times. But he had to reach the North Woods where he would be in no further danger of capture. Now that he had decided to return to his old home, he wasn’t going to be turned aside by anything.
He reached the bank of the river by dawn. It was certainly a wide river, and very swift. He walked in it and drank his fill of cool, refreshing water. Seeing Billy the Mink washing himself on the bank, he called to him: “Must I swim the river to reach the North Woods, Billy?”
“You certainly must,” laughed Billy, “unless you can fly across. You haven’t wings yet, have you, Buster?”
“Not yet, Billy.”
Then taking a plunge in the deep, swift stream, Buster began his long swim. The current was so strong that it carried him far down from the point he had in view, and at times it seemed as if he wasn’t making any headway at all. His long tramp in the woods began to tell on him, and he puffed and grunted as never before.
But he was a powerful swimmer, and in time his feet touched sandy bottom on the other side. He waded through the shallow water until he stood on dry land once more.
“My, Buster, you look like a drowned rat!” exclaimed a voice in the bushes. He turned to see Groundy the Woodchuck smiling at him. “When did you arrive?” continued Groundy. “And how big you’ve grown! I hardly knew you at first.”
“How far am I from the North Woods, Browny?” Buster interrupted.