“Fish-Carrier,” the other hunter, nodded his head understandingly, refilled his stone pipe, and said tauntingly, “I know some Indians that don’t know as much as a bear.”

Fire-Flower chuckled, passing the insinuation with a knowing smile.  “No bear knows more than this Indian,” he boasted.  “At least no bear I ever came across could outwit me.”

“We’ll hear what you have to tell,” answered Fish-Carrier, with great condescension.

Young Wampum sat erect then.  He knew the tale was going to be a good one.

Teasingly, old Fire-Flower took an unnecessarily long time to “light up,” but his two auditors were Indians, like himself, and had patience with his whims.  Then the great hunter settled himself, and began his story by shaking his head, boastingly, and chuckling: 

“It was two white men, and, as usual, they knew nothing, but they had good guns, and a fine canoe, and they paddled many days to get to the ‘Indian Bush’ to hunt.  I was up there, across from the island in the river, when I first saw them, and their faces were paler than any paleface I ever saw before or since.  It seems they had pulled up on the shore, built a little campfire to make their tea and to eat, when out of the bush arose a big black bear, gruffing and grunting and eating berries.  When they saw it they gave a worse war-whoop than the Cherokees ever did.  They reached for their guns, then started to shake and tremble as though the bush ague were upon them.  ‘He’s chewing!’ yelled one.  ‘He’s chewing at us, he’ll eat us alive.’  But the other put on a face like a great brave.  ‘We’ll kill him,’ he said with great boasting.  ‘That’s what we came for, to kill bears.’  But just then the bear came towards them, still eating his berries.  They were too scared to fire.  One just struck him over the head with his gun, then they both turned and made for the canoe.  The blow made the bear angry as the Thunder God, and before they could push off shore the bear got his claws on the edge of the canoe, and away they all went sailing into midstream, the palefaces paddling for all their lives, and the black bear clinging on to the canoe.  In their fright they had left their guns ashore, and while one paddled, the other beat the bear’s head with the paddle blade.  It was then that I first saw them.  I stood on the shore with a very sickness from laughter in all my bones.”  Here he ceased talking, for Fish-Carrier and Wampum had broken into such bursts of merriment that Fire-Flower was compelled to join them.

“Oh, that I could have seen them, that I could have seen it all!” moaned Fish-Carrier between gasps.  “That must have been a thing to make men laugh for many moons.”  But Wampum said nothing; it was not the etiquette of his race that he should join in the talk of older men, unasked, but he, too, gulped down his uproarious laughter while Fire-Flower proceeded.