tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">The Bravery of Ebenezer Coon

I

THE THREE BEARS OF PORCUPINE RIDGE

“WOOF, woof, woof,” called the little black mother bear gruffly, turning over a rotten log with her snout and uncovering a fine ant’s nest.

“Woof, woof,” answered back the two round black balls of animated fur—the cubs, as they scrambled eagerly and clumsily over the log, and began to feed greedily upon their mother’s find.

The little black mother bear and her two cubs lived in a cozy den just below Porcupine Ridge, which happened to be far up on the side of Cushman Mountain. They were a happy little family, the three bears, and every day the two cubs grew more ball-like and lovable to their patient mother, who always managed to lead them to the very best feeding places. Through the dense, dark spruce forests, far down into the swamps below she took them, where they fed happily upon young frogs or crawfish, and the juicy sprouts of the skunk cabbages. Occasionally she would show them the way across the burnt swale, where the wild raspberries grew luscious and red.

The three bears nearly always slept inside their den the greater part of the day, but as soon as the hermit thrush began to sing her sleepy lullaby song, and the old gray hoot owl, who lived in a giant sycamore tree just below the Ridge, “who-oo, oo’d,” then Mrs. Bear would nudge the two sleeping cubs with her snout, and cuff them about with her great paws playfully, until they were wide awake. Then off they would all three start in the moonlight to make a night of it in the forest. And they never thought of coming back to the den again until morning, when they had usually satisfied their pressing hunger.

Oh, life on Porcupine Ridge was peaceful and happy enough for the old mother bear and her two roly-poly cubs, and they were very contented with life until one eventful day something happened which changed everything, and this was how it came about.

One night, when it was “dark o’ the moon,” Mrs. Bear discovered a great patch of ripe raspberries in the edge of the swamp, and so while the two cubs were busy feeding upon the luscious berries, she suddenly became possessed with a keen desire for an adventure. So plunging deep into the swamp, she was soon across its treacherous quagmires, on through the dense spruce bush, and soon came out upon the far side of the swamp. She headed for the sheep pasture at first, but soon lost all desire for fresh lamb, for just then her keen nose had scented something far more desirable and delicious. It was honey.

On and on scrambled Mrs. Bear through the sheep pasture, utterly forgetting the cubs; past the rail fence she waddled, where sat the old gobbler turkey and his ten timorous wives, fast asleep, but uttering little, flurried peepings even in their dreams. But Mrs. Bear passed them carelessly by, and hurried on, with little eager “woof, woof’s,” until she had come to the farmer’s home lot, and then she knew she had found that for which she searched, for suddenly she came