ike the voice
of a friend.

He grew to love this handsome and noble animal as he had loved nothing
on earth except his father and mother.

As a matter of course he heard a hundred times the story of Stella's
adventure with the terrible Gausdale bear. It was a story that never
lost its interest, that seemed to grow more exciting the oftener it
was told. The deep scars of the bear's claws in Stella's thigh were
curiously examined, and each time gave rise to new questions. The mare
became quite a heroic character, and the suggestion was frequently
discussed between Lars and his little sister Marit, whether Stella might
not be an enchanted princess who was waiting for some one to cut off
her head, so that she might show herself in her glory. Marit thought the
experiment well worth trying, but Lars had his doubts, and was unwilling
to take the risk; yet if she brought luck, as his mother said, then she
certainly must be something more than an ordinary horse.

Stella had dragged little Lars out of the river when he fell overboard
from the pier; and that, too, showed more sense than he had ever known a
horse to have.

There could be no doubt in his mind that Stella was an enchanted
princess. And instantly the thought occurred to him that the dreadful
enchanted bear with the evil eye was the sorcerer, and that, when he was
killed, Stella would resume her human guise. It soon became clear to him
that he was the boy to accomplish this heroic deed; and it was equally
plain to him that he must keep his purpose secret from all except Marit,
as his mother would surely discourage him from engaging in so perilous
an enterprise. First of all, he had to learn how to shoot; and his
father, who was the best shot in the valley, was very willing to teach
him. It seemed quite natural to Thorkel that a hunter's son should take
readily to the rifle; and it gave him great satisfaction to see how true
his boy's aim was, and how steady his hand.

"Father," said Lars one day, "you shoot so well, why haven't you ever
tried to kill the Gausdale Bruin that hurt Stella so badly?"

"Hush, child! you don't know what you are talking about," answered his
father; "no leaden bullet will harm that wicked beast."

"Why not?"

"I don't like to talk about it--but it is well known that he is
enchanted."

"But will he then live for ever? Is there no sort of bullet that will
kill him?" asked the boy.

"I don't know. I don't want to have anything to do