IN times long past Brother Bear was a famous fisherman. He had a large stock of patience, and great good nature. He was never in a hurry.
But Brother Bear was honest as he was slow, and always ready to believe what others told him, and so he was often imposed upon by the slyer animals—Brother Fox, for instance.
One day as Brother Fox was walking beside a stream, he saw a group of plump little animals slip into the water and disappear from sight.
“Young otters, I do believe!” cried Brother Fox, smacking his lips. “What a meal they would make!” Then he sat down beside the stream and began to think. He did want those otters so badly! He could not think of anything else that would taste half so good. But how to get them! That was the question.
Presently, while he was thinking, along came Brother Bear shuffling down the path with a load of nuts and honey.
“Good morning, Brother Bear,” said Brother Fox. “I see you have a load of excellent food—excellent for you, I mean. My tribe never eats nuts or honey. But perhaps you would not mind adding a bit of tender meat to your load.”
“Meat? No, indeed,” replied Brother Bear. “But where am I to find it?”
“Why,” said Brother Fox with his craftiest smile, “there are some young otters in this stream. I just saw them slip into the water. It seems to me that they would make very good eating for you and your family.”
Brother Bear smacked his lips. “But how am I to get them?” he asked.
“I am no fisherman, as you well know,” said Brother Fox, “but you are a famous fisherman. Why can you not fish for them?”
Brother Bear thought for a moment. “But I have no bait,” he said.
“That is true,” replied Brother Fox, “but I will tell you what to do. Just go out upon that log that lies near the shore and drop your fine long tail into the water. I feel sure the otters will think your tail good bait, and when one comes to nibble it, you can jerk up your tail and just whip the otter over to the shore. I will guard your game for you until you finish fishing.”
“Very good,” agreed Brother Bear, “I will try that.”
So Brother Bear laid down his load of nuts and honey, made his way to the log, and climbed upon it. Then he let his fine long tail drop down into the water—for this was in times long past, you must remember, when the tails of the bears were long—and then he closed his eyes and sat very still.
Presently he felt a nibble at his tail, and he whipped it up, as Brother Fox had told him. Sure enough, a fine young otter went flying across to the bank where Brother Fox lay waiting behind a bush.
“That was pretty well done!” thought Brother Bear, as he dropped his tail into the water again and waited. Presently he felt another nibble, and another otter went flying across to the bank. And soon it was followed by a fish, and then by another fish.
“What a fine dinner I shall take home to my family,” thought Brother Bear to himself, as he began trying to count the number of times his tail had been nibbled, and he had sent something flying across for Brother Fox to guard.
While he was trying to count, North Wind came along and saw him sitting there with his eyes closed, and his tail hanging down in the water.
“I shall have to play a trick on Brother Bear, I do believe!” chuckled North Wind to himself, and he sent a cold breath over the water, so that it became quite still. Then he sent another breath, and a cold, shining crust formed all across its top. After that he sent another breath, and another, and the cold, shining crust grew thicker and thicker.
Presently Brother Bear stopped trying to count and opened his eyes. “Brother Fox,” he called, “there seems to be no more game in the river. I have not felt a nibble for a long time.”
But Brother Fox was just finishing a nice bone, and he called back earnestly, “Oh, be patient, Brother Bear! I am sure you will catch more game if you wait a little longer.”
So Brother Bear closed his eyes again and sat still for several minutes. Then he called, “Brother Fox, I am sure there is no more game in the river. I am coming ashore now.”
There was no answer from Brother Fox, so Brother Bear moved a little on the log, but it was a very little, for his tail felt heavy as lead. “Why,” he exclaimed, “I must have an enormous fish now, my tail is so heavy!” And with that he gave a great jump, intending to carry the game with him to shore, when, snap! his tail broke right off short, for it was frozen fast in the ice. And that was the trick that North Wind had played.
Brother Bear felt terribly at losing his tail, it had been such a beautiful, long one! But at last he comforted himself by thinking, “Well, at any rate, I have a wonderful feast to carry home to the family: nuts, and honey, and fish, and game.” So he licked his lips, in spite of the loss of his tail.
But when Brother Bear reached the shore, he could not find Brother Fox anywhere! And neither could he find the fish, nor the tender young otters. Instead, he found a heap of fresh bones back of the bush where Brother Fox had been lying. And then he knew that Brother Fox had played a bad trick upon him, too.
He gathered up his load of nuts and honey and went sadly home. And from that day to this Brother Bear has refused to do any more fishing, and has worn a stumpy tail.