DIDO HELPS A GIRL
“See how friendly our dogs are with the dancing bear,” said Alice, the
girl, to Bob, the boy.
“Our bear is very good and tame, and he likes good dogs,” spoke George.
“Where did you get him?” asked the boy, for the automobile tire was not
yet fixed, and they still had to wait beside the country road.
“I caught Dido on top of a mountain, in the woods, in a far country,”
said the man. “I put some honey in a box and when he went in to get it
the door fell shut and he could not get out. Then I trained him, and
brought him to this country. He was a little fellow then, and he used
to growl at me, but now he likes me, I think, for I try to be kind to
him.”
“Yes, I do like you,” said Dido to himself. “He is good to me,” he
added, speaking to the two dogs.
For though Dido, Don and Rex could understand most of the talk that
went on, they themselves could not speak to the men, or to the boy or
girl. Then the man told the boy and girl how Dido had learned to dance,
just as I have told you in the first part of this book.
“Did it all happen that way?” asked Don, of Dido, for the dogs and bear
were resting in the shade now.
“That’s just the way it happened,” Dido said. “I lived in the woods
with my father and mother, and my brothers Gruffo and Muffo. But I like
it here now better than in the woods.”
“And how is Tum Tum, the jolly elephant?” asked Don.
“Very well,” answered Dido, “and as fond of peanuts as ever.”
“Yes, he always did like them,” barked Don, “but, as for me, I never
could see much in them. The shells get in my teeth.”
“Tum Tum eats them, shells and all,” Dido said.
“Well, remember me to him when next you see him,” went on the dog who
had once run away. “Tell him I would like to see him again.”
“I shall,” Dido promised, “though I don’t know when I may meet him
again. He is in the circus, you know, and I am traveling about the
country. Still I may see him.”
By this time the automobile tire was mended and the man called to the
boy and girl to get in.
“That means we shall have to go also,” said Don. “Well, good-by, Dido.
I am glad to have met you.”
“And so am I,” said Rex, the other dog. Then they rubbed noses
together, which is a sort of way animals have of shaking hands, I
suppose; and then they parted.
“Don’t forget to tell Tum Tum what I told you!” barked Don, with a wag
of his tail, as he jumped up with the boy and girl.
“I’ll not,” promised Dido, waving his paw at the two dogs.
Then the automobile puffed away and Tom and George led Dido down the
country road, now and then stopping in front of a house to blow a tune
on the brass horn, so Dido could do his tricks.
That night it rained, so the two men with the dancing bear could not
sleep out in the woods. They looked around until they found a barn, and
they asked the farmer if they might sleep in that.
“If you will kindly let us,” said George, “we will make our bear do
tricks for you, and you will not need to give us any money in the hat.”
“Very well,” the farmer said; “you and Dido may sleep on the hay in my
barn. And I will give you something to eat, though I do not know what
bears like.”
“He likes buns especially,” said George, “and I have none for him in my
bag. He ate the last one this noon, and since then we have not come to
a bakery where I could buy more.”
“Likes buns, does he?” asked the farmer’s wife. “Well, I have some, but
they have raisins in. Do you think Dido would not like them on that
account?”
“Raisins in the buns!” cried George, making a low bow. “Why he will
like them all the better on that account. The buns I give him only have
little currants in. He will like raisins very much better indeed.”
And Dido did. He thought he had never tasted such good buns as those
the farmer’s wife gave him. And Dido did all his tricks in the barn
that night, safe and dry from the rain. The farmer and his wife, the
hired man and some boys and girls, came from nearby houses to watch
Dido do his tricks, and no one had to give a cent because the farmer
had been kind to the men, and the farmer’s nice wife had been very good
to Dido.
The next morning the sun shone, for the rain had stopped, and after
Dido had taken a bath, in the big trough where the farm horses drank,
he and his two masters started off down the country road again, having
had a good breakfast.
The farmer’s wife gave George more raisin-buns to put in his bag for
Dido, and the dancing bear was very glad when he saw them.
“I shall not be hungry to-day,” said Dido to himself.
That day they passed through two or three small towns, and Dido did his
tricks several times, so that the hat of George had quite some money in
it. And that night the men and their trained bear slept in the woods,
with moss for a bed and the blankets they carried with them for covers.
Dido’s fur was _his_ blanket.
Dido awakened early the next morning, before either of the men. He
looked at them sleeping near him, and then he rolled over on the bed of
moss, stretched his strong legs, scratched with his claws on the soft
ground and opened his mouth to stretch that in a big yawn.
Then Dido stood up, and he saw that during the night the chain, which
George always used to fasten him to a tree, had come loose.
“Why, I could run away if I wanted to,” thought Dido. “I could slip off
in the woods and run away, as Don, the dog, did. Only I won’t. George
would feel badly, and, besides, I might not be able to get anything to
eat. These woods may not be like the woods on the mountain where I used
to live. I guess I will not run away. I will just walk down to that
little brook and get a drink.”
Not far from where the men and bear had slept that night was a nice
brook, bubbling over green, mossy stones. Dido went down to the bank of
it, and, as he was getting a drink, he saw some fish swimming about.
“Ha! Fish!” said Dido to himself. “That’s good. Here is my breakfast
all ready and waiting for me――if I can catch one.”
The dancing bear leaned over the water as his father and mother had
taught him to do. He had not forgotten. Dido waited. Pretty soon he
saw, swimming along, a big, shiny fish.
“Ah, ha!” thought Dido. “I guess I can get you!”
Down he scooped with his paw, getting his claws under the fish, and out
of the water he lifted him.
“Oh, look!” cried Tom, awakening just in time to see Dido toss the fish
out on the bank. “What is our bear doing?”
“He is getting his breakfast,” answered George. “Wild bears often catch
fish that way. But this is the first time I ever saw Dido do it. I wish
he would catch some for us.”
And Dido did, though he did not know he was catching fish for his
masters. He thought they would all be for him. But Dido pulled out of
the brook more fish than he really needed, and Tom and George built a
fire and cooked some for themselves. Dido did not bother about a fire.
He was afraid of a blaze, as all animals are.
After their breakfast in the woods, Dido and his masters marched on
again. Whenever they came to a village Tom would blow on the brass
horn, and Dido would dance around, turn somersaults, march like a
soldier and climb a tree or telegraph pole. The people liked to see
this last more than anything else, and Dido liked to climb, for he was
used to that. He really liked it better than turning somersaults, for
much dust got in his thick fur when he got down and rolled over on the
ground.
Dido was a clean bear, and whenever he became dusty and dirty he wanted
a bath. And whenever they came to a lake or stream of water Dido was
allowed to go in, and splash about as much as he pleased.
One hot afternoon Dido was asleep in the woods with the two men. They
had performed the tricks in one village, and were going on to another,
taking a rest in between.
Once again Dido awakened to find his two masters asleep, but this time
the chain was still fast to a tree, so Dido could not wander very far.
He got up and walked about, and, as he did so he heard, off through the
woods, the barking of a dog, and then a scream.
[Illustration: Just as the dog was going to jump Dido stepped in
between them.]
All at once Dido saw a girl running along the path in the woods, and
behind the girl came a big black dog, barking angrily, and trying to
catch the girl.
“Oh, stop him! Somebody please stop him!” screamed the girl. “He is a
bad dog and wants to bite me!”
Of course Dido did not know all the girl said, but he could see that
the dog was angry and had sharp teeth. He might bite the girl, though
why any dog should want to bite such a nice girl Dido could not tell.
“Don’t let him get me!” begged the girl, and she ran toward Dido and
the two men, who were now awake.
“Here!” cried Dido to the bad dog in animal language. “You let that
girl alone!”
“No, I’ll not!” barked the dog. “I am going to bite her!”
“Oh, no, you’re not!” said Dido, and he growled now, for he did not
like this kind of a dog. Then, just as the dog was going to jump at the
girl, Dido stepped in between them, and, with one sweep of his big paw,
the dancing bear knocked the dog to one side, so that he rolled over
and over in the leaves.
“There! Now I guess you’ll let little girls alone!” said Dido, standing
ready to knock the dog away again if he sprang at the girl.