e old bear
took, one by one, and laid before her cubs. Then she divided each piece,
and reserved only a very small portion for herself. As she was carrying
away the last piece, several of the men on board the ship aimed their
muskets at the two cubs, and shot them dead; after which they shot at
the old bear, and wounded her, though not mortally. One of the gentlemen
who witnessed this spectacle says that it would have drawn pity from any
but the most unfeeling hearts, to mark the affectionate concern
expressed by this poor beast, as she saw that her young were dying.
Though she was sorely wounded herself, and could but just crawl to the
place where they lay, she carried the last piece of flesh to them, as
she had done with the others, and divided it for them. When she
perceived that they refused to eat, she put her paws first upon one and
then upon the other, and endeavored to raise them up. All this time it
was deeply affecting to hear her moans. When she found she could not
stir her dying cubs in this manner, she went away some distance from
them, looking back occasionally, and moaning, as if in the utmost
distress. This means not availing to entice them away from the spot, she
returned, and commenced smelling around them, and licking their wounds.
Then she went off a second time, as before, and having crawled a few
paces, looked again behind her, and for some time stood still, uttering
the most piteous cries. But still her cubs did not rise to follow her,
and she returned to them, and with signs of the greatest fondness, went
around them separately, placing her paws upon them tenderly, and giving
utterance to the same cries of distress. Finding, at last, that they
were cold and lifeless, she raised her head toward the ship, and growled
in indignation for the murder. Poor creature! the men on board returned
her angry cry with a shower of musket balls. She fell between her cubs,
and died licking their wounds.

Hans Christian Andersen, in his "Picture Book without Pictures," relates
an anecdote, in his droll way, about a tame bear, who got loose, when
the man who was exhibiting him was at dinner, and who found his way into
the public house, and went straight to a room where there were three
children, the eldest of whom was only some six or eight years old. But,
Hans, you may tell the rest of the story in your own peculiar language:
"The door sprang open, and in stepped the great rough bear! He had grown
tired of standin