Not the least of the perils of the pioneers were
the wild animals of the forest. Bears, wolves, and
panthers were the worst terrors. Mothers were in
constant fear of their children straying away from
the cabin into the woods where four-footed danger
lurked.
A man and his wife with three children--a boy aged nine
and two little girls, the elder seven and the younger
five years old--lived in a comfortable cabin not far from
the eastern line of Indiana. Their nearest neighbor was
six or seven miles distant, and all around their little clearing 5
stood a wall of dense forest. The father tended a small
field of corn and vegetables, but their main dependence for
food was upon the game killed by him, so he was often
absent all day in the woods, hunting deer and turkeys.
The children were forbidden to go outside the inclosure 10
while their father was away, and the mother, at the slightest
hint of danger, was instructed to close the door and bar it
and shut the portholes. But even in times of such danger,
people grew careless and permitted themselves to take
risks in a way quite incredible to our minds. Children 15
were restless when confined to a cabin or within a small
yard, when the green woods were but a few steps away,
with flowers blooming and rich mosses growing all around.
They constantly longed to be free, if only for a few moments,
to wander at will and make playhouses in the dusky shade, 20
to climb upon the great logs and watch the gay-winged
birds flit about in the foliage on high.
One day in early spring the father went to the woods to
hunt. Before setting forth with his rifle on his shoulder,
he particularly charged his wife not to permit the children,
no matter how much they begged and cried for it, to go
outside the yard. 5
"At this time of the year," he said, "bears and all other
wild beasts are cross. They wander everywhere and are
very dangerous when met with. Watch the children."
The wife did try faithfully to keep her eyes upon her
darlings; but she had many household duties to perform, 10
and so at last she forgot.
The spring was very early that year, and although it
was not yet May, the green tassels were on the maples and
the wild flowers made the ground gay in places. All around
the clearing ran a ripple of bird song. The sunshine was 15
dreamy, the wind soft and warm.
The little boy felt the temptation. It was as if a sweet
voice called him to the wood. Nor were the little girls
less attracted than he by the thought of gathering mosses
and flowers and running at will under the high old trees. 20
Before their mother knew it, they were gone. She had
not yet discovered their truancy when a cry coming from
some distance startled her; it was her little boy's voice
screaming lustily, and upon looking out she saw all three
of the children running as fast as they could across the 25
clearing from the wood toward the house. Behind them,
at a slow, peculiar lope, a huge bear followed.
Frightened almost to death, the poor woman scarcely
knew what she was doing; but she had the fighting instinct
of all backwoods people, and her first motion was to snatch 30
off the wall, where it lay in a deer's-horn rest, a large horse
pistol. With this in hand she ran to meet her children.
Some hunter had broken the bear's fore leg with a bullet
a few days before, which accounted for its strange, waddling
gait; but it was almost within reach of the hindmost child
when the mother arrived. The bear at once turned its
attention to the newcomer, and with a terrific snarl rushed 5
at her. On sped the children, screaming and crazy with
fright. It was a moment of imminent peril to the mother,
but she was equal to the occasion. She leveled the pistol
and fired. Six leaden slugs struck the bear in the head
and neck, knocking it over. 10
Not very far away in the woods at the time, the man
heard the loud report, and fearing that Indians were murdering
his family, he ran home to find his wife just reviving
from a swoon. She had fainted immediately after seeing
the effect of her shot. 15
The bear was not yet dead, but a ball from the rifle finished
him. He was a monster in size. Doubtless the
wound in his fore leg had made it difficult for him to get
food, and he had attacked the children on account of sheer
hunger. But had he not been in that maimed condition, 20
his attack would have been successful and the hindmost
child would have been torn to pieces and eaten up in the
shortest time and with little show of table manners.
--_Stories of Indiana._
1. There must be in your community some older
person who knows stories of the pioneer days. Ask
your teacher to have him tell your class about the
life of an earlier day.