But when she was finishing the fourth, another hunter ran up and struck her a fearful blow with his hatchet, which cut deeply into her hind leg, severing some of the tendons, and causing the blood to gush forth and dye the spot a deep, dark red.

At the same moment that he dealt Brunie the blow, the hunter, with a deft movement, captured one of her cubs, and while Brunie’s attention was taken up with the two remaining hunters her little one was carried off.

[Illustration:  “FURIOUS WITH RAGE, BRUNIE ROSE UP AND WENT TO MEET THEM”]

But the pain of her wound and the loss of her cub made Brunie so wildly fierce and savage that the two hunters, remembering the fate of their comrades, came to the conclusion that “discretion was the better part of valor,” and with much difficulty managed to get away.

Poor Brunie was, by this time, weak from loss of blood, and sat down, doing her best to lick her wound and comfort her remaining cubs.  The little ones in their turn did their best for her, helping her to lick the sore place, and every now and then sucking it with their little lips.

This adventure upset poor Brunie for several days, and the loss of blood made her more weak, irritable and savage than ever.

But she had not forgotten the hunter that struck her with his hatchet, or the loss of her little one, and so, one warm moonlight night, when she was feeling better, and her three remaining cubs were in a sound sleep, she betook herself quietly through the forest, and at last came near the very place where that particular hunter lived.

There was but one field that separated her from the hunter’s house, and that was occupied by big, horned cattle, and these cattle, not liking the look of Brunie in the moonlight, and not having sense enough to keep quiet and not molest her, commenced at once to bellow and charge at her as soon as she entered the field.

Brunie had never, like some bears, gone in for cattle killing, but had always kept to a vegetable diet; and she was not at all anxious—­ particularly at this moment—­to have anything to do with cattle.  So, with a few growls and a hoarse kind of a grumbling sound, she took no notice of them, but swung herself heavily along towards the farmyard.

The cattle, unfortunately, had not sense enough to let well enough alone and allow her to go quietly on her way, but kept on bellowing, prancing about and charging until Brunie lost her temper.

What!  She could not even cross a field without these stupid cattle bothering and worrying her to death, when her little one was a few yards off, and already calling for her!  It was too much.  So, with a growl of rage, which was more like a hoarse bellow, Brunie made for them, and very soon killed two or three.  So excited did she become at last, that for the moment she even forgot her beloved little one, and set herself to work all the destruction she possibly could, out of pure revenge.