in the manner he had gone up. He afterwards repeated his adventurous visit.
"Bears," says Mr. Lloyd, "are not unfrequently domesticated in Wermeland. I heard of one that was so tame, that his master, a peasant, used occasionally to cause him to stand at the back of his sledge when on a journey; but the fellow kept so good a balance, that it was next to impossible to upset him. When the vehicle went on one side, bruin threw his weight the other way, and vice versa. One day, however, the peasant amused himself by driving over the very worst ground he could find, with the intention, if possible, of throwing the bear off his equilibrium, by which, at last, the animal got so irritated, that he fetched his master, who was in advance of him, a tremendous thwack on the shoulders with his paw. This frightened the man so much, that he caused the beast to be killed immediately."
Of the ferocity of the bear there are many instances on record. A brown bear, which was presented to his late majesty, George III., while Prince of Wales, was kept in the Tower. By the carelessness of the servant, the door of the den was left open; and the keeper's wife happening to go across the court at the same time, the animal flew out, seized the woman, threw her down, and fastened upon her neck, which he bit; and without offering any further violence, lay upon her, sucking the blood out of the wound. Resistance was in vain, as it only served to irritate the brute; and she must inevitably have perished, had not her husband luckily discovered her situation. By a sudden blow, he obliged the bear to quit his hold, and retire to his den, which he did with great reluctance, and not without making a second attempt to come at the woman, who was almost dead, through fear and loss of blood. It is somewhat remarkable, that, whenever he happened to see her afterwards, he growled, and made most violent struggles to get at her. The prince, upon hearing of the circumstance, ordered the bear to be killed.
But the bear is also capable of generous attachment. Leopold, Duke of Lorraine, had a bear called Marco, of the sagacity and sensibility of which we have the following remarkable instance: During the winter of 1709, a Savoyard boy, ready to perish with cold in a barn, in which he had been put by a good woman, with some more of his companions, thought proper to enter Marco's hut, without reflecting on the danger which he ran in exposing himself to the mercy of the animal which occupied it. Marco, however, instead of doing any injury to the child, took him between his paws, and warmed him by pressing him to his breast, until next morning, when he suffered him to depart, to ramble about the city. The young Savoyard returned in the evening to the hut, and was received with the same affection. For several days he had no other retreat; and it added not a little to his joy, to perceive that the bear regularly reserved part of his food for him. A number of days passed in this manner without the servants' knowing any thing of the circumstance. At length, when one of them came to bring the bear its supper, rather later than ordinary, he was astonished to see the animal roll his eyes in a furious manner, and seeming as if he wished him to make as little noise as possible, for fear of awaking the child, whom he clasped to his breast. The bear, though ravenous, did not appear the least moved with the food which was placed before him. The report of this extraordinary circumstance was soon spread at court, and reached the ears of Leopold, who, with part of his courtiers, was desirous of being satisfied of the truth of Marco's generosity. Several of them passed the night near his hut, and beheld, with astonishment, that the bear never stirred as long as his guest showed an inclination to sleep. At break of day, the child awoke, was very much ashamed to find himself discovered, and, fearing that he would be punished for his temerity, begged pardon. The bear, however, caressed him, and endeavored to prevail on him to eat what had been brought to him the evening before, which he did at the request of the spectators, who afterwards conducted him to the prince. Having learned the whole history of this singular alliance, and the time which it had continued, Leopold ordered care to be taken of the little Savoyard, who, doubtless, would have soon made his fortune, had he not died a short time after.
Munster relates the following story of a man being strangely relieved from a perilous situation: A countryman in Muscovy, in seeking for honey in the woods, mounted a stupendous tree, which was hollow in the centre of its trunk; and, discovering that it contained a large quantity of comb, descended into the hollow, where he stuck fast in the honey, which had been accumulated there to a great depth; and every effort on his part to extricate himself proved abortive. So remote was this tree, that it was impossible his voice could be heard. After remaining in this situation for two days, and allaying his hunger with the honey, all hope of being extricated was abandoned, and he gave himself up to despair. At last a bear, who, like himself, had come in search of honey, mounted the tree, and descended the hollow cleft, "stern forward." The man was at first alarmed, but mustered courage to seize the bear with all the firmness he could; upon which the animal took fright, made a speedy retreat, and dragged the peasant after it. When fairly out of the recess, he quitted his hold, and the bear made the best of its way to the ground, and escaped.
It would appear that, in the remote regions of the United States, the common black bear is occasionally found of a cinnamon color, and sometimes even white. Tanner gives us the following account: "Shortly after this, I killed an old she-bear, which was perfectly white. She had four cubs; one white, with red eyes and red nails, like herself; one red, and two black. In size, and other respects, she was the same as the common black bear; but she had nothing black about her but the skin of her lips. The fur of this kind is very fine, but not so highly valued by the traders as the red. The old one was very tame, and I shot her without difficulty; two of the young ones I shot in the hole, and two escaped into a tree.
"I had but just shot them when there came along three men, attracted, probably, by the sound of my gun. As these men were very hungry, I took them home with me, fed them, and gave them each a piece of meat, to carry home. Next day, I chased another bear into a low poplar-tree; but my gun being a poor one, I could not shoot him.
"A few days after, as I was hunting, I started, at the same moment, an elk and three young bears; the latter ran into a tree. I shot at the young bears, and two of them fell. As I thought one or both must only be wounded, I sprang towards the root of the tree, but had scarcely reached it when I saw the old she-bear coming in another direction. She caught up the cub which had fallen near her, and, raising it with her paws, while she stood on her hind feet, holding it as a woman holds a child, she looked at it for a moment, smelled the ball-hole, which was in its belly, and perceiving it was dead, dashed it down, and came directly towards me, gnashing her teeth, and walking so erect that her head stood as high as mine. All this was so sudden, that I scarce reloaded my gun, having only time to raise it, and fire, as she came within reach of the muzzle. I was now made to feel the necessity of a lesson the Indians had taught me, and which I very rarely neglected – that is, to think of nothing else before loading it again."
Some years ago, a boy, of New Hampshire, found a very young cub, near Lake Winnipeg, and carried it home with him. It was fed and brought up about the house of the boy's father, and became as tame as a dog.
Every day its youthful captor had to go to school at some distance, and, by degrees, the bear became his daily companion. At first, the other scholars were shy of the creature's acquaintance; but, ere long, it became their regular playfellow, and they delighted in sharing with it the little store of provisions which they brought, for their sustenance, in small bags. After two years of civilization, however, the bear wandered to the woods, and did not return. Search was made for him, but in vain.
Four succeeding years passed away, and, in the interval, changes had occurred in the school alluded to. An old dame had succeeded to the ancient master, and a new generation of pupils had taken the place of the former ones. One very cold, winter day, while the schoolmistress was busy with her humble lessons, a boy chanced to leave the door half way open, on his entrance, and, suddenly, a large bear walked in.
The consternation of the old lady, and her boys and girls, was unspeakable. Both schoolmistress and pupils would fain have been abroad; but the bear was in the path, and all that could be done was to fly off, as far as possible, behind the tables and benches. But the bear troubled nobody. He walked quietly up to the fireplace, and warmed himself, exhibiting much satisfaction in his countenance during the process.
He
