The monarch of the Arctic regions, the monstrous white bear there reigns
supreme. Savage and ferocious as is his consort, as well as he, she
shows the utmost affection for her young. I have a sad tale to tell.
The crew of an exploring vessel in the Arctic Seas had killed a walrus,
and set fire to part of the blubber. The steam of the flesh drew from
afar towards it a she bear and her two cubs. Putting their noses to the
tempting mess, they began to eat it eagerly. The seamen, seeing this,
threw other pieces on the ice nearer to the ship. The bear incautiously
approached, carrying off the pieces, which she bestowed on her cubs,
and, though evidently famished, taking but a small portion herself. The
thoughtless sailors shot the two cubs, and again firing, wounded the
mother. Though she herself was barely able to crawl to the spot where
they lay, she carried to them the last lump of blubber, endeavouring to
make them eat it. Discovering that they were unable to do so, she
endeavoured to raise first one, and then the other; but in vain. She
now began to retreat; but her motherly feelings overcoming her, though
conscious of the danger she was running, she returned to where they lay,
moaning mournfully. Several times did she thus behave, when, seemingly
convinced that her young ones were cold and helpless, she cast a
reproachful glance towards the vessel whence the cruel bullets had
proceeded, and uttered a low growl of angry despair which might have
moved the hearts even of the most callous. A shower of musket bullets,
however, laid her low between her two cubs, and she died licking their
wounds.
You cry "Shame" on the rough sailors for their cruelty. Yes, they acted
cruelly, because they were thoughtless of the feelings of the poor bear.
Ask yourself, dear young friend, if you are ever thoughtless of the
feelings of those who merit your tenderest love. If you are, cry
"Shame" on yourself, and endeavour in future to regard them first of all
things.