Page:The art of story-telling, with nearly half a hundred stories, y Julia Darrow Cowles .. (IA artofstorytellin00cowl).pdf/239

 with a superior air. "Big or little, I can burn it down."

"Then I'll tell you something," said Father Bear. "My forefathers lived in this region from the time that the forests first sprang up. From them I inherited hunting grounds and pastures, lairs and retreats, and have lived here in peace all my life. In the beginning I wasn't troubled much by the human kind. They dug in the mountains and picked up a little ore down here by the rapids; they had a forge and a furnace, but the hammers sounded only a few hours during the day, and the furnace was not fired more than two moons at a stretch. It wasn't so bad but that I could stand it; but these last years, since they have built this noise shop, which keeps up the same racket both day and night, life here has become intolerable. There are so many people that I never feel safe from them. I thought that I should have to move away, but I have discovered something better!"

The boy wondered what Father Bear had hit upon, but no opportunity was afforded him to ask, as the bear took him between his forepaws and held him up.