“I shall go with you!” said John to himself.  He seized the staff which the Hermit had dropped, and followed close upon his heels.

Soon their eyes became more used to the darkness of the cave, with which the Hermit was already familiar.  Presently out of the shadows in a far corner they spied two red eyes glaring upon them.  Behind the eyes bulked a huge, apparently shapeless form.  It half rose as they drew near, and again they heard the growl of anger.  But as the creature made a sudden movement, the growl turned into a howl of agony, and it rolled back into the corner, whimpering.

John plucked the Hermit by his robe.  “It is a bear!” he said.  “I have met them sometimes upon the highways, traveling with mountebanks.  And the men told me that they were very fierce and hard to tame.  Be careful, my father!  Go not near, I beseech you!”

But the old man paid no heed to his words.  Bending forward, he made a strange sound in his throat, a soothing, cooing noise.  The bear heard it, and ceased to whine.  They saw the ugly head rear up and look at the Hermit wildly.  Again he made the sound, and stooping without fear brought his face close to the bear’s great body.  The animal did not move.

Presently the Hermit turned to John.  “The poor beast has a wounded paw,” he said.  “An arrow has hurt it badly.”

He unfastened from his girdle a cup which he always carried in his wanderings.

“Here, my son,” he said, “fill this at the spring which we passed yonder.  The creature suffers from thirst.”

John hesitated.  “Is it safe to leave you here alone with this wild beast?” he asked.

The Hermit smiled.  “Quite safe,” he said.  “Do you think I need your protection?  Brother Bear will soon know me for his friend.”

When John returned he found the Hermit sitting on the floor of the cave, with the bear’s paw resting on his knee.  The animal was quiet, save for a whimpering now and then.  John could see his little red eyes fixed upon the Hermit with a curious look of wonder and appeal.  He seemed unable to move, and the Hermit touched the beast quite naturally, as if he were a great kitten.  The bear stirred and turned his eyes when John entered.

“Thanks, son,” said the Hermit, taking the cup from the boy’s hand; and, turning again to’ the bear, he held it to the animal’s mouth.  “Drink, brother,” he said.

Eagerly the bear lapped up the water.

“Now, my son,” said the Hermit to John, “go you to the entrance of the cave and pluck me a handful of the healing herb-leaves.  I must bind up this suffering paw.”

“Surely, father,” begged John, “you will not try to touch the creature’s wound.  He will tear you to pieces!”

The old man turned reproachful eyes upon him.  “Son,” he said, “I have tried to teach you obedience.  Go, get me the leaves.”

Without more words John hastened to do as he was bid.  When he returned with a handful of the plant, he found that the Hermit had bathed the wounded paw of the now quiet animal.  He had torn a strip of linen from the shirt which he wore under his gray robe, and was making this into a bandage.  Soon he had crushed the leaves and had bound them upon the foot of the bear, who lay still and gentle under his hands.  John stared, amazed.