There were many other freaks of the bear which a kind conspiracy of
silence concealed from her master as long as possible. Like other
bachelors who live alone, he was not always punctual in sitting down
to table. His pet had the healthy appetite of youth, and was hungry at
times before dinner was ready, and then, being at home everywhere and
not troubled with false pride, she naturally went to the kitchen and
helped herself.
It is likely that she burned or scalded herself in that way, for it is
known that another little Burman bear, who frequented the kitchen, had
that experience. But we have only probability to go upon in this
instance. She made no complaints, and returned regularly, and the cook
would not tell tales. Indeed, he seems to have taken great pains to
protect her, thrusting himself between her and danger so often that,
at last, not knowing what he would be at, she either misunderstood his
intentions or lost patience, and recollecting how strong she was, she
turned to claw that affectionate but too meddlesome cook.
The upshot was all her master was allowed to know. It could not be
concealed. The cook had to bolt. Alone in the kitchen, with unfettered
discretion, she behaved like the reasonable, civilised animal she was.
She merely took what she wanted and did what she liked, and allowed
the cook to return. She had never meant to hurt him, only to remove
him out of her way.
She used to travel about with her master, when he went on tour. Being
unable to ride a pony, she sat in a cart. The ideal method would have
been for her to sit in a box or basket on such occasions, and journey
as Gulliver did in Brobdingnag; but it was useless to argue with her.
She could burst any wickerwork, as easily as Samson burst his bonds,
and she saw no need for anything but a convenient seat. She liked to
joke with the driver, like a passenger on an old-fashioned bus or
coach; but gradually it came to her master's knowledge that, only too
often, the driver and anybody else in the cart had to jump down to
avoid her--she was so rough in her horseplay. There was a rumour that
she once knocked down a driver; but he made no complaint and it was
probably an accident. I was once nearly knocked down by a bear that
cannoned against me by inadvertence, hurrying to greet me in a
friendly way.
When left alone in the cart, she never attempted to touch the reins.
She gazed at them and the bullocks, serenely unconcerned, as the
passengers in a steamer look at the machinery. When the driver went to
the bullocks' heads and stopped them, and gathered up the reins and
climbed back into the cart, she seemed to consider his behaviour a
matter of course, and looked as if anything else would have surprised
her. Nevertheless, when these transporting adventures became known,
her master insisted on leaving her at home.