XI.

WHEN LITTLE BEAR WENT SAILING

Once upon a time, when Father Bear was dozing in his big chair, and Mother Bear was picking the garden blackberries, Little Bear started toward the river, which ran back of the house.
“Where are you going?” asked Mother Bear, as Little Bear opened the garden gate.
“I'm going in swimming,” answered Baby Bear. Wading round in the shallow water near the shore was what he called swimming.
Mother Bear smiled, and kept on picking blackberries.. Little Bear ran, hopping and skipping, down the garden path, toward the river. Suddenly he stopped short and peeped through the bushes, because Brother Blue Jay called, in shrill tones, “Jay! Jay! Jay!” Crows, likewise, warned him to go no farther.
“What can be the matter?” whispered Baby Bear.

Upside-Down Bat, who has wonderful ears, cautioned him to be quiet.
“Hush!” said he. “There is a man tying a boat to the willows!”
“Why, Uppy,” exclaimed Little Bear, “are you awake in the daytime?"

He spoke like that to Upside-Down Bat because they were old friends.
“Hush, Cubby, I tell you-hush!”
Upside-Down Bat called Little Bear “Cubby” to tease him.
Out in the path danced Baby Bear, ready for a pleasant fuss with his friend.
“Oh, ho, ho! What have we here?” exclaimed the young man, when he saw Little Bear.
Little Bear stood still and stared. He was not afraid.
“Now see here, sir,” said the young man, as he stepped on shore, “you tell your father and your mother that I am a butterfly collector, and I do not want you. But, sir-don't you go near my boat!”
Baby Bear did not answer. After being told not to go near that boat, he should have kept out of it; but after the young man was gone a baby Red-Head flew to the willows and began talking woodpecker nonsense to Little Bear. Suddenly the wind snatched a feather from Red-Head's new cap and sent it floating down the river.
“Don't cry, Baby Red-Head!” called Little Bear. “I'll get your feather!”
If you will believe it, he untied that boat, jumped in, and away he sailed. One oar fell overboard, but Little Bear tried to paddle with the other. He thought that he knew all about boats because he had heard Father Beaver tell the Beaver children many boat stories. Little Bear could not turn that boat. The wind was blowing downstream. By the time Little Bear knew that he could not get back, it was useless for him to shout for help.
Little Bear became terribly frightened, but he remembered Father Beaver's advice: “If ever you find yourself adrift in an open boat, keep your head.”
So Little Bear kept his head, and sure enough, help came. Father Kingfisher, searching the river for fish, saw Little Bear sitting exactly in the middle of the boat, holding an upraised oar. Father Kingfisher knew that a little way beyond was the wide, wide ocean, and the river traveled fast. So does news. Father Kingfisher flew along, and told all the wild-wood folks he met that dear Little Bear was floating out to sea all alone in a rowboat.
Immediately on learning such dreadful news, all the best swimmers along the river started in pursuit of the drifting boat. Father Beaver and all his brothers, Father Otter and his folks, the Mink family, and the Muskrat tribe at once left their work and swam into the middle of the stream, caught the boat, turned it round, and tied a grapevine rope to the bow and towed it up the river.
Several hours passed before Father Bear and Mother Bear saw the unusual procession.
What do you suppose were the first words Little Bear said to his Mother Bear?
“Here's the feather I went after-it is for you to give to Mrs. Red-Head.”
What do you suppose Mother Bear did then? She took that little feather and cried over it-nor would she ever allow it to be replaced in Baby Red-Head's cap. And to this day, if you care to visit the Three Bears, you may see that very feather under a glass tumbler on the mantel above the fireplace.

XII.

WHEN LITTLE BEAR SAT UP LATE

Seven o'clock was Little Bear's bedtime. Usually he was glad to cuddle down when robins tucked their heads under their wings and oriole babies in swinging cradles quit fretting. But one night when robins had gone south and oriole babies were grown up, he surprised his mother.
“I don't want to go to bed,” said he. “Hoot Owl children sit up late, and, please, I should like to, too!”
Little Bear spoke in cheerful tones and smi1d so happily that middle-sized Mother Bear looked pleased and big, big Father Bear grinned from ear to ear.
“We'll think about it,” answered Mother Bear, with a wink at Father Bear.
“Very well,” said Father Bear, “we'll think about it.”
Soon after that the huge clock on the wide chimney shelf struck one, two, three, four, five, six, seven!

Instead of saying, “Come, Little Bear, it is bedtime,” Mother Bear began clearing away the supper. She washed the porridge bowls and spoons and the big kettle, and put them in the cupboard. Father Bear stirred the fire in the huge fireplace. This done, Mother Bear spread the cheery red cloth on the table, and placed two candles on it. Then she sat down in her middle-sized chair to knit, while Father Bear seated himself in his big, big chair and read aloud from a ponderous book.
Little Bear sat in his wee, wee chair in front of the fire, and breathed a sigh of deep content.
The fire snapped, crackled, and roared up the chimney. The clock ticked loud tick-tocks on the wide shelf, the knitting needles clickety-clicked! and Father Bear droned on about “Winter Homes for Bears,” “The Best Caves in the Forest,” and other stories. Outside the wind howled, “Woo-oo-oo!” around the little house.
First thing he knew Little Bear began to feel sleepy. Next thing he knew he couldn't keep his eyes open. At last Mother Bear dropped her knitting and smiled.
“Father Bear,” said she, “Little Bear is sound asleep.” “Sure enough!” exclaimed Father Bear.
Just then the clock struck one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!
“Shall I carry him up to bed?” asked Father Bear. “Let me undress him first,” answered Mother Bear.
Little Bear was so sound asleep he didn't awaken when his father lifted him from his wee, wee chair and put him in his mother's lap. Bumety-bump! went his nodding head against her shoulder when Mother Bear undressed him and put on his red flannel nightie.

Father Bear wound the clock, and blew out one of the candles. Then he tramped up to bed, carrying Little Bear, while Mother Bear followed with the lighted candle.
Soon the Three Bears were sound asleep and dreaming happy dreams while the autumn wind sang, “Woo-woo, woo-woo-ooo-oo!” outside their little house.
How Little Bear laughed next morning when his mother told him how he stayed up late, but couldn't keep awake, not even until the clock struck eight!
Next night he was glad to go to bed right after supper, and by and by when the Three Bears moved to their winter home, Little Bear fell asleep and slept all winter.

XIII.

LITTLE BEAR'S DOUGH

One Saturday morning when Mother Bear was busy mixing bread, Little Bear kept getting in the way and asking questions, until his mother quite lost her patience.
“Come, come,” said she, “keep out from under foot! Here, take this lump of dough and skedaddle!”
“What is the dough for?” inquired Little Bear as he reached for the big, soft ball his mother pushed to the edge of the flour board.
“It is to keep you quiet and out of mischief for a few minutes,” answered Mother Bear, with a wide, wide smile.
“But how do you make it into bread?” persisted Little Bear.
“Oh, you knead it and knead it, as I am doing, and then put it in a warm place to rise. After it has risen high, you may make it in a loaf and bake it with mine. But you must knead your dough a long, long time!”
With great content Little Bear kneaded his bread on one of the large, flat stones in front of the fireplace.

Mother Bear smiled, and thought she would rather be excused from tasting that bread when it was baked. But Little Bear had a good time. He punched that dough, he flattened it out, he rolled it, he bit little chunks from it, he patted it into a mountain, he squeezed it, he changed it from a white ball to a streaked black one, and then, looked around for a warm place to put it to rise. His mother's bread was back in the pan covered with a cloth; but Baby Bear thought of a warmer place than the chimney corner. He thought with delight of Father Bear's big, broad nose!
Father Bear was tilted back in his chair, half asleep. “You like dough?” inquired Little Bear, climbing on a bench beside his father.
“Ooom,” answered Father Bear, his eyes closed.
“Would you like to have a weenty bit on top of your nose?” whispered Little Bear, grinning from ear to ear.
“Ooom,” murmured Father Bear, who didn't wish to talk, though it didn't bother him a bit to have Baby Bear climbing over him; neither did he mind when Little Bear flattened the lump of dough on his broad, warm nose.
Mother Bear saw what Little Bear did, but she forgot all about it; so did Baby Bear. They went in the garden to pick blackberries, leaving Big Bear asleep.
Father Bear's broad nose was warm. The dough began to rise. Up and up it went, higher and higher; then it spread; it kept on rising and spreading. By and by Father Bear felt smothered. At last he awoke with a start. Something sticky was all over his face, covering his mouth and eyes. Up went his paws into the dough. Father Bear could n't think what was the matter, so he called Mother Bear. She came running fast; so did Baby Bear. They could n't help laughing when they saw Father Bear. He laughed too after Mother Bear washed off the dough, but said:
“Young Bear, next time you make bread, keep away from my nose!” Then they danced around, singing,

“Ta-de-dum, dum, dum!
Ta-de-dum! ta-de-dum!”

until Mother Bear had to stop to put her bread in the tins! The next time she made bread Little Bear didn't get a speck of dough!

XIV.

WHEN LITTLE BEAR VISITED THE BEAVERS

Not far from the home of the Three Bears in the forest lived a colony of happy beavers. Their lodge was on a tiny island in the river. One moonlight night, when Baby Bear was ill because he had eaten too much honey, his mother gave him medicine and then rocked him in the middle-sized chair. Little Bear wasn't a bit sleepy, and when he saw a birch tree behind the house fall, swish, bang! into the river, he sat up straight in his mother's arms and pointed toward the window.
“That is Castor Americanus Beaver cutting down trees for his dam,” explained Mother Bear. “You have seen his house and the dam, with the willow trees growing on top, many a time.”  “What makes the Beavers build a dam?” asked Baby Bear.
“To protect their houses, Baby Bear. Sometimes the water in these little rivers dries up, so the Beavers build a dam across our river to keep the water from all going away, or freezing to the bottom during cold winters. Father Beaver is starting a new house, too, so they tell me, and that is why he is cutting down so many birch trees across the river.”
“I wish I could go and see Father Beaver build his house,” said Baby Bear. “Sally Beaver said, 'Ask your mother if you may come over and stay all night when we begin our new house, and see all the Beavers work.' They do their work at night, she says. May I go?”
“Certainly, as soon as you are well,” agreed the Middle-sized Bear.
Two days later she took Baby Bear to the Beavers' lodge across the river, and called upon Sally Beaver's mother and her family. “Baby Bear wishes to come visiting,” said she.
“We are glad to see him,” said Mrs. Beaver. “Will you stay all day and all night, Baby Bear?”
Little Bear nodded his head vigorously, kissed his mother good-by, and went away with Sally Beaver to play with her brothers and sisters. Mother Bear walked home, smiling to herself.
That day Baby Bear dined on blackberries and roots of the yellow water lily. Then Sally Beaver told him he must take a long nap with the seven Beaver babies that were born in May.
“Where shall I sleep?” asked Baby Bear. “On the floor, right here. You see it is kept perfectly clean. This is the only room that belongs to our family. There are a dozen other families living here under the same roof, but we each have only one room and one outside door. We also have holes in the river bank where we hide when danger threatens. Once a trapper tried to catch my father, but Goldilocks' uncle sent him away from the forest and nothing bad has ever happened since. Now, don't talk any more, Baby Bear, but cuddle down, and go to sleep.”
Baby Bear didn't like to cuddle down on a floor made of mud and sticks and stones, but he rolled up in a round ball, down among the beavers, and was soon asleep. When he awoke Mother Beaver was teaching Sally and her seven other children how to keep their fur clean.
“Do it this way,” said she, and lifting one of her big hind feet, which were webbed like a duck's foot, she combed her fur with her toes. Soon all the baby Beavers were combing their fur with their toes. Baby Bear thought it was a funny sight; but when he tried to comb his hair with the toes of his hind foot over he went, tumblety, tumble! and bumped his nose. All the baby Beavers laughed until Sally Beaver told them it isn't polite to laugh at one's company.
When Father Beaver came home to supper he showed Baby Bear his sharp, orange-colored teeth, which were so strong he could cut down small trees with one bite. “But I usually gnaw round and round a tree before I can cut it down,” he explained. “And look at my big flat
tail, Baby Bear. Did you ever see anything like it?”

“No, Mr. Beaver, I never did! Do you plaster with it?”
“No, no, Baby Bear, that is a mistake. I use my tail for a paddle in the water, and for a rudder. I carry mud for plastering in my hands-I hold it up close under my throat, like this. We do plaster our houses and our dams, inside and out, and we keep them plastered, but we do all that work with our hands. We are always busy, and now you know what it means to be 'busy as a beaver.' Well, Baby Bear, you must be hungry, so let us go in to supper.”
Baby Bear didn't like his supper as well as he did his dinner, because all Mother Beaver had prepared was bark of trees, willow bark particularly.
“Bedtime, Baby Bear. Come, Baby Bear,” called Sally Beaver at sunset.
“Oh, but I am going to sit up all night, Sally Beaver, and see Father Beaver build his new house!” cried Little Bear.
“But, Baby Bear, he won't build his new house until frost comes!” exclaimed Sally Beaver. “He is getting the materials ready now, and cutting down trees for us to eat bark from in the winter. He is working on our new house, of course, but the work he is doing now is floating trees down the river. Cuddle down and go to sleep, Baby Bear. You can come again in October and see the new house.”
Tears rolled down Baby Bear's cheeks, but he cuddled down beside the little Beaver children and tried to go to sleep.
“Swish, swish! Swish, swish!” sang the river close beside the Beavers' house. It sang the baby Beavers to sleep; but Baby Bear did not like its music. It made him feel lonesome and want Mother Bear, so he began to cry softly.
“Poor little fellow! I really believe he is homesick,” declared Sally Beaver. “Please go for his mother, Father Beaver.”
So up the river paddled good-natured Father Beaver as fast as he could go. Then he waddled up the garden path to the Three Bears' house and told Father Bear that his baby was homesick.
Father Bear and Mother Bear went together after their homesick baby. When they were home again Mother Bear gave Little Bear a bowl of porridge and pretty soon the little fellow was sound asleep in his own wee bed.
“I never could understand why the Beavers like to live in such damp houses!” said Mother Bear to Father Bear.
“Nor I, either,” admitted Father Bear, “but they are good neighbors, good neighbors!”

XV.

LITTLE BEAR'S ADVENTURES

One afternoon, when Baby Bear was little, big Father Bear came in from a walk, and said that Mrs. Wildcat was ill. Then Mother Bear went out into the garden, and picked some catnip. Then she called Little Bear.
'My child,” said Mother Bear, “take this basket of catnip to Bramble Thicket, and leave it by the gate, where Mrs. Wildcat will be sure to smell it. But do not go into the house, or play with the Wildcat babies. At this time of day I think they will be asleep in the den.”
After promising to obey, Little Bear walked through the gate down the path toward Bramble Thicket.
“That catnip will make Maria Wildcat feel better the minute she tastes of it,” said Mother Bear, as she sat down in the middle-sized chair and began knitting.
Soon after, Aunty Brown Bear knocked at the door and walked in, asking, “Where is Little Bear?”
“He has gone on an errand. He will soon be back,” answered Mother Bear.
“I shall probably meet him,” said Aunty Brown, “and if I may, I'll take him to supper, and bring him home at bedtime. His Uncle Brown wishes to see him.”
“Very well,” agreed Mother Bear, “but he must be in bed before dark, or he won't grow big and strong.”
But Aunty Bear did not meet Little Bear, for he was lost. He had left the catnip at Bramble Thicket, and was hurrying away, when he heard the baby Wildcats quarreling. The noise frightened Little Bear so he began to run; but he followed the wrong path.
At first, Little Bear thought he could find his way home; but after he had wandered round half an hour without seeing a tree he knew, or a clump of bluebells, or a daisy patch, he sat down and cried.
“Cheer up! Cheer up!” advised Mother Robin.
So Little Bear cheered up and traveled on. But he could not find his way. Here and there he ran through the forest, looking for a familiar stone, or a path, or even a fairy ring; but though he found fairy rings, and paths, there was not one he had ever seen before.
On and on ran Little Bear, and his feet were tired and sore. Then daylight faded and darkness came. But he remembered that Father Bear had often said, “Little Bear, never give up! Never give up!”
So Little Bear would not give up. He wiped his eyes, and climbed the hill. When he reached the top, what do you suppose he saw in the gathering darkness? He saw his own little house and his own big garden; he was standing at the top of his own little hill! And he heard two hoes in the garden, going scritch-scritch-scratch! And he heard big, big Father Bear singing.
Little Bear ran down as fast as he could go, calling, “Mother Bear! Come get your baby! He was lost!”
You may be sure Father Bear and Mother Bear were surprised and grieved when they heard Baby Bear's story. After Mother Bear had given Little Bear a warm bath and a big bowl of bread and milk, Father Bear said:
“Son Bear, I'm ashamed of you! Next time mother sends you with catnip for Mrs. Wildcat, stay in the road. Cowards always get into trouble. You must be brave!”
But after Little Bear was sound asleep, Mother Bear went up to kiss him and whisper, “Poor little fellow!”

THE END