THE BEAR COLONY AT LAST. THE PARTING OF BOSEPHUS AND HORATIO
"Oh, the wind blows fair and the snow is gone
In the Arkansaw when the spring comes on.
Oh, the sun shines warm and the wind blows fair,
For the boy and the cub and the Old--Black--Bear."
SO sang Bosephus and Horatio as they sat side by side in the doorway of
a deserted lumberman's cabin in the depths of an Arkansaw forest. The
cub rescued from the brutal Italian and brought with them on their hasty
journey out of Louisiana, stood a few feet away watching them intently.
Now and then he made an awkward attempt at dancing, which caused
Bosephus and Horatio to stop their music and laugh. He had grown fat and
saucy with good treatment, and seemed to enjoy the amusement he caused.
At a little distance behind him, some seated and some standing, and all
enjoying the entertainment, were seven other bears of various sizes. The
colony so long planned by Horatio and Bosephus was established.
The long journey out of Louisiana had been made rapidly and with no
delays. Though midwinter when begun, the weather had been beautiful at
the start, and there had been few storms and but little cold since. The
cub had gradually confided his story to Horatio, who loved him and
continued to call him affectionately "little brother." He had been
captured in a very deep woods, he said, by hunters, who sold him to the
Italian. He did not know where these woods were, but as the friends
crossed the Louisiana line and entered lower Arkansaw he grew more and
more excited every day, for he declared these were so like his native
woods that he could almost hear his mother's voice crooning the evening
lullaby. Soon after, they came one evening upon a deserted lumberman's
camp and took possession of the one cabin that still remained. It was a
good shelter and there was a stream with fine fish in it close at hand.
But when the friends awoke next morning the little bear was gone.
They were very sorry, for they had grown much attached to the little
chap and he had seemed to be fond of them also. It was very lonely in
the deep forest without him. Horatio sighed.
"He didn't appreciate us, Bo," he said, sadly. "He's gone back to be a
wild bear. He never got the taste of men--tastes, I mean, and I suppose
these woods made him homesick. They are like my old woods, too, and I
get homesick sometimes--even now." Then the boy and the Bear went to the
brook to fish and the day passed gloomily.
But that night, when Bo had built a fire in the big fireplace which
almost filled one end of the cabin, and was cooking the fish, there came
a muffled scratching sound at the door. Horatio sprang to his feet
instantly.
"That's Cub," he said, excitedly.
The boy ran to the door and opened it. Sure enough, the little cub stood
before him, and out of the darkness behind gleamed seven other pairs of
eyes. The boy was brave, but as he saw that row of fiery orbs he felt
his flesh creep and his hair began to prickle.
"Horatio!" he called, softly, "come quick."
[Illustration: THE POOR BEAR GAVE WAY COMPLETELY.]
The Bear was already by his side, and a moment later with the cub
stepped out into the night. Then Bosephus heard low growls followed by a
strange commotion, which he at first took to be the sound of fighting.
Suddenly Horatio ran to him in great excitement.
"Bo, Bo!" he exclaimed, "it's my family! and, oh, Bosephus, it's Cub's
family, too! We're really brothers, and we didn't know it!" Then he ran
back into the dark and presently returned with the cub and the seven
other bears, following. The newcomers stared and blinked at the little
boy as they entered the lighted cabin and then withdrew to a darker
corner, where they sat silently regarding everything that passed, like
strangers from the country. The cub sat with them and whispered softly,
in the bear tongue, and Horatio now and then went over, too, and no
doubt told them marvellous tales of his strange adventures. Late that
night all lay down to sleep--the little boy in the arms of his faithful
friend.
And so the Bear Colony had begun, even sooner than Bo and Ratio had
expected, and they had given up all notion of travelling any further.
The lumber camp was deserted for good by the woodcutters, for the
largest trees had been cut out and taken away long before. The cabin was
headquarters--Bosephus was president, Horatio prime minister, and the
cub, because of his adventures and slight educational advancement, was
chief assistant. Early spring was upon the land, and the woods were
beginning to be sweet with song and blossom. Bosephus was almost afraid
at first that, with the native woods and the renewal of home ties,
Horatio might return more or less to his savage instincts, but he became
gentler and more docile than ever. His place as prime minister and chief
instructor made him realize his advancement and the importance of good
behavior. He was grave and dignified, and about the fire in the evening,
played the violin with an air of skill and superiority that was very
impressive. Bosephus at first enjoyed it all immensely. The bears were
obedient and submissive, and were gradually learning to understand his
language. He had more money than he would ever need and was lord of all
he surveyed.
But gradually there came a change. He grew tired of seeing only the
black faces and shining eyes of his subjects and of hearing only the
singing of bees and birds. At first he did not realize what was the
matter. Then it came to him at last that this life of the forest was
palling upon him and that, like the cub, he yearned for his own
kind--the faces of men.
One morning he divided up the money into two equal parts and slipped out
to where Horatio was sunning himself and playing softly before the
cabin.
"Horatio," he said, tenderly, "I have divided up the money. Here is your
half. You have been the best friend I ever had and it breaks my heart to
leave you, but I can't live away from my own race any longer. I am going
back to Louisiana, to the planter who told me to come back and he would
send me to school and college and make a man of me," and then the little
boy suddenly broke down and fell weeping into his companion's arms.
For some moments Horatio could not speak. Then he spoke, sobbing between
every word.
"Bo--Bo--you--you're--not--not going to--to leave me! Oh, Bo!" and the
poor Bear gave way completely and wept on the little boy's shoulder.
They were all alone, as the others had gone out together for a walk. At
last Horatio put the boy gently from him and took up his violin. He
began to play very softly and sang in a breaking voice:--
"Oh, he's going away to leave me to the Lou'siana shore,
And I'll never see my darling, my Bosephus, any more;
He's divided up the money, and he's going far away,
And my poor old heart is breaking but he--will--not--stay.
We have battled with the weather--we have faced the world together--
Never caring why or whether--never minding when or where--
But he says we now must sever--happy days are done forever,
For Bosephus and the fiddle and the Old--Black--Bear!"
[Illustration: FELL WEEPING INTO HIS COMPANION'S ARMS.]
An hour later Bo was wending his way southward through the sweet spring
woods alone. In his inner breast pocket was stored every dollar the
friends had earned together.
"I will never need it now, Bo," Horatio had said at parting, "and you
will need a great many times as much. Take it and sometimes think of
your far off faithful Ratio." And then, after one long embrace, they had
parted. And now the little boy was trying to keep up courage to carry
out what he had undertaken. At every turn in the path he was tempted to
return and throw himself in Horatio's arms. But he pressed on, hoping to
arrive at some sort of habitation for the night, which he did not like
to pass alone in the woods.
"Poor old Ratio," he thought. "He will be happier with his own people
after a while. And perhaps he will really civilize them." He turned and
cast one long look in the direction of the colony which he could no
longer see. Then facing about again he hurried forward. About a mile
further on he paused at a little brook for a drink. He was bending over
the water when he heard a sudden crashing in the bushes behind him. He
started up instantly and seized a heavy stick that lay close at hand.
Nearer and nearer came the tearing through the brush, like some heavy
animal in fierce chase. The boy stepped out of the path to let the
creature pass, and then, all at once, he gave a cry of joy and surprise.
Headlong out of the bushes, stumbling and rolling at his feet, with
tears streaming from his eyes and violin under his arm, was Horatio.
"Bo, Bo!" he cried. "I couldn't stand it. I'm going with you. That kind
planter will give me a place to stay, I know, and maybe if he sends you
to college he'll let me go, too. I could play for the college boys, Bo,
and help pay your way. Don't send me back, Bo! Don't send me back!"
Bo embraced him silently.
"Why, of course not, Ratio," he said at last, "but I thought you wanted
to have a colony of your own people."
"I did, Bo, but I have turned it over to Cub. He can take care of it.
Like you, Bo, I have been civilized too long to live away from men! And,
besides, Bo, you need me to protect you." Horatio recovered his dignity
at this point and continued, gravely, "You are brave and noble,
Bosephus, but you need some one near you who is ever ready to face any
danger. Let us sing now, Bosephus, as we travel onward."
And with a joyful scrape of the strings and a sweet burst of melody the
friends set their faces once more to the South.
[Illustration: Music]
"Oh, there was a little boy and his name was Bo,
Went out into the woods when the moon was low.
[Illustration: Music]
And he met an Old Bear who was hungry for a snack,
And the folks are still waiting for Bosephus to come back.
[Illustration: Music]
"For the boy became the teacher of this kind and gentle creature,
Who was faithful in his friendship and was watchful in his care,
[Illustration: Music]
And they travelled on forever and they'll never, never sever,
Bosephus and the fiddle and the Old--Black--Bear."
[Illustration: "And they traveled on forever"]
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 20, "TO" changed to "BO" (BO was awake first)
Page 66, two lines of text were transposed. The original read:
of them----"
down here are mighty fond of bear meat, and there's such a lot
End of Project Gutenberg's The Arkansaw Bear, by Albert Bigelow Paine