He never spoke except at dead of night, when he was
exchanging compliments with some other bear up a gum tree in the
forty-acre paddock. And such compliments! Their voices were
frightful, something between a roar and a groan, and although Philip
was a great linguist he was never quite sure what they were saying.
But the bear was always scheming to get away; he was like the Boers,
and could not abide British rule. Philip would not have kept him at
all, but as he had taken him into the family circle when a cub he did
not like to be cruel and turn him out along in a heartless world.
Twice Bruin managed to untie the clothes line and started for the
forty-acre. He crawled along very slowly, and when he saw Philip
coming after him, he stopped, looked behind him, and said, "Hoo,"
showing his disgust. Then Philip took hold of the end of the clothes
line and brought him back, scolding all the time.
"You miserable Bruin, you don't know what's good for you; you can't
tell a light-wood from a gum-tree, and you'll die of starvation, or
else the boys will find you, and they will kill you, thinking you are
a wild bush bear, for you don't show any signs of good education,
after all the trouble I have taken to teach you manners. I am afraid
you will come to a bad end."
And so he did. The third time Bruin loosed the clothes line he had a
six hours' start before he was missed, and sure enough he hid himself
in a lightwood for want of sense, and that very night the boys saw
him by the light of the moon, and Hugh Boyle climbed up the tree and
knocked him down with a waddy.
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