by Anna Sewell
CHAPTER VIII
THE BEAST AND THE MAN
A sense of pain and annoyance penetrated the deep sleep of Black Bruin,and with a growl and a start he awoke. When he had fallen asleep hismountain cavern had been quite dark. It had always been dark when heawoke and stretched himself, but now the full glory of daylight wasstreaming in.
There before him, dark, sinister and forbidding as ever, stood Pedro,and in his hand was the sharpened stick with which he had been proddinghim, causing him to awaken.
As Black Bruin arose in response to his blows, he shook himself, andstretched first one cramped leg and then another, which were stiffafter his long sleep. Pedro could not help but notice how he had grownand what a great brute he was getting to be.
"Holy saints," he ejaculated, "but he is one pig deevil-bear. I mustclub heem and prod heem much, or he eat me. He em one deevil."
Black Bruin felt a sense of irritation at the coming of his master andfollowed him sullenly as he led the way out of the winter quarters intothe full day. How sweet and fresh was the air and how bright andbeautiful the world. Then, for the first time, there came an almostoverpowering longing for freedom. He had often felt it slightly, butnow it nearly mastered him and he all but broke into open rebellion.
The deep woods were calling to him. The wild free life was his byright. He was no dog to be led about upon a chain, and to go and comeat the beck of man. He was a wild beast whose home was the wilderness,and this cruel creature, who tyrannized over him, and prodded him, forwhom he did tricks day after day, had stolen away his freedom.
Of course Black Bruin did not think these thoughts in just this way.To him they were dim and inexpressible; he only felt a wild rage atbeing restrained and made a captive and a hot desire to be off.
So it was with this ill-disguised humor that he followed his masterfrom town to town and did his tricks.
Pedro, on the other hand, felt that the bear was becoming morose andthat his spirit must be broken, so he prodded and beat him until hislife was almost unbearable.
One evening the two camped near the edge of a spruce woods. Along oneside of the road ran a turbulent stream, which was at the bottom of adeep gorge. At several points one could look down from fifty to onehundred feet to the water, foaming and lashing and rushing upon itsway. For a part of the distance the bank was almost perpendicular, andhere the passer-by was protected from falling into the abyss by arailing that was spiked to posts or convenient trees.
To-night, Pedro was sleeping soundly, his head pillowed upon his greatcoat, that he carried in the spring and fall against inclement weather.He no longer pillowed his head upon Black Bruin, who was chained to anear-by tree. The beast now also wore a muzzle and this was one moregrievance which he nourished in his heart against the time of vengeance.
Black Bruin was not asleep, but was watching first his master and thenthe flickering light of their camp-fire. As he watched and pondered,the tyranny of his chain and muzzle grew upon him. The muzzle galledhis nose and the chain was a continual reminder of his slavery. Pedrohad prodded and clubbed him this spring until his body was sore. He nolonger had the slightest spark of affection for the man, but instead afearful hate that burned in his breast like living coals.
The sound of Pedro's deep breathing also filled him with a terriblerage. It seemed as if he could feel all the prods that he had receivedfrom the stick at once, and each stung him with a new pain. His breathcame thick and hot and his eyes glowed with all the deep intensity ofhate;--hate, that had long smouldered, fed with continual fuel, butalways kept in check, only at last to break out in a conflagration,sweeping all before it.
At length raging, yet fearful, Black Bruin backed away to the fulllength of his chain and began straining upon it with all his might. Itchoked him until he could no longer breathe. Then he stopped for amoment to recover his breath, and went at the chain again.
For half an hour he tugged and strained, choking and gagging until atlast the ring in his collar pulled out and he was free from the chain.But he was not free as long as that sleeping demon by the fire stillhad strength to pursue and recapture him. He never would be free untilhe had killed him.
Next he lay down and began tugging at his muzzle. That too choked himas he pulled upon it, and he nearly strangled in the process ofwrenching it off, but finally the hated thing lay upon the ground, withthe strong wires bent and the strap broken.
Then Black Bruin crept forward to within three or four feet of wherePedro lay heavily sleeping, and stood there, watching his master. Hefelt sure that with one blow of his paw he could cripple him, but hecould not bring himself to strike that blow. The man might have somenew and terrible hidden power that he knew not of. He had seen him dostrange things and there might be still others that he had not yettried. Could he not make fire out of sticks that really had no warmthin them? There was something fearful about a creature who could dosuch things.
But one thing was certain;--Pedro would not strike him again. Thegrowing rage in his brute breast made that impossible.
If he would only move and get up and reach for his stick, then the poorenthralled brute might act. This would be a match to the powder.
At last Pedro stirred uneasily in his sleep and groaned, and with allthe stealth of a wild beast Black Bruin drew nearer to him. He couldsee drops of sweat upon the man's brow and a tremor shook his body.Was this terrible demon really afraid? If so, Black Bruin himselfwould no longer be afraid, so he drew still nearer and stood over hismaster.
Then with a yell of terror that echoed through the cavernous woods,Pedro sprang to his feet, while his hand reached for the stiletto thathe always carried. But quick as he was, he was not as quick as thebear, for, with a motion like lightning and a grip like steel, BlackBruin pinioned his arms to his sides and held him as though in the gripof Vulcan.
"Heii, yii-here, you brute deevil. You let me go I keel you," shriekedPedro. But the words, that would have made the bear cringe and skulk afew hours before, held no terror for him. He was master now, and thisman who had clubbed and prodded, sworn at, and outraged him, was apigmy in his arms. His powerful jaw too was close to the man's neck.One crunch would make him lifeless.
Then Pedro, with more ferocity than judgment, began kicking, hoping tofrighten the bear, who had always skulked at his slightest word. Butthe growl of rage with which Black Bruin greeted this move fairly frozethe blood in Pedro's veins, especially when he felt the great brutehalf open his jaws as though to bite through his neck.
Then Pedro became wise and sought by kind words to persuade the bearinto releasing him.
"Gude Freetzie, gude beastie. Don't, Freetzie, don't."
But those platitudes were received as uncompromisingly by Black Bruinas were the kicks. He evidently would have no parleying of any sort.The man had been weighed in the balance and found entirely wanting.
There was still one very slight hope left, however. If Pedro couldonly reach his stiletto, even with his hands pinioned to his sides, hemight be able to plunge it into the brute's side down low and inflict awound that would cause the bear to loose his hold for a second, when hemight wrench himself free and deliver a second fatal thrust.
The stiletto was in a sheath and Pedro could just reach the point. Hisonly hope was to work it loose, then with a quick motion jump it out,and catch it as it fell. It was a desperate chance, but all that wasleft to him.
His slightest movement brought blood-curdling growls from Black Bruin,who evidently did not intend to take any chances with him.
At the same instant that Pedro began reaching for his stiletto, BlackBruin started marching him up the road into the woods. Where he wastaking him and what new horror awaited him the Italian could notimagine.
Inch by inch he carefully worked the stiletto higher and higher in thesheath. Then with a quick upward motion of his hand, he jumped itclear of the leather and clutched for the handle as it fell. But hisfingers barely glazed the steel, the weapon fell
to the earth, and hislast hope was gone.
About fifty feet down the road, Black Bruin wheeled his captive sharplyto the right and taking a few steps in that direction, they stood uponthe brink of the precipice, at the bottom of which was the foaming,dashing, turbulent stream.
As though to make the horror of the situation even more intense, themoon which had been under a cloud, came out and shone peacefully intothe yawning depths. In the silver moonlight the white foam on thewater looked as soft as wool; but Pedro knew that beneath the froth andfoam were the jagged and hungry rocks that made it.
There they remained for the space of ten seconds, the dark, cruel,sinister little man, held in the inexorable grip of the great shaggybeast. Each second the crushing arms of the bear tightened and theman's breath came in gasps and sobs. His tongue protruded from hismouth, and his eyes bulged out of their sockets with fear and pain.Blood dripped from his nose and his ribs creaked as the infuriatedbeast slowly crushed him.
When the figure of his tormentor no longer struggled in his arms, BlackBruin opened his powerful jaws and with a single bite crushed thevertebras of the neck. Then, with a grunt of deep satisfaction, helifted the limp figure in his arms as high as he could, and flung itinto the yawning chasm below.
He peered over the railing and saw it strike upon the rocks beneath,hang for a moment uncertain and disappear in the dark eddy.
Then he dropped on all fours and hurried back to camp, where hedemolished everything of Pedro's meagre outfit, not forgetting to tearhis coat to shreds. This done to his evident satisfaction, he obeyedthe call from the deep woods, that had been so insistent in his ear allthat spring and summer, and shuffled away into the gloom.
The dark plumes of fir and pines sighed, "Come," and the night windwhispered, "Come," and the rustling fronds and grasses said, "Come."All nature welcomed the exile to this, his native wilderness.
