Permission had been
duly asked, and granted by Mrs. Hastings, and the cheroots had just
begun to draw, when Miss Hastings, a niece of the colonel, who had
only arrived the previous week from England, said: "Uncle, I am
quite disappointed. Mrs. Lyons showed me the bear she has got tied
up in their compound, and it is the most wretched little thing, not
bigger than Rover, papa's retriever, and it's full grown. I thought
bears were great fierce creatures, and this poor little thing seemed
so restless and unhappy that I thought it quite a shame not to let
it go."
Colonel Hastings smiled rather grimly.
"And yet, small and insignificant as that bear is, my dear, it is
a question whether he is not as dangerous an animal to meddle with
as a man eating tiger."
"What, that wretched little bear, uncle?"
"Yes, that wretched little bear. Any experienced sportsman will
tell you that hunting those little bears is as dangerous a sport
as tiger hunting on foot, to say nothing of tiger hunting from an
elephant's back, in which there is scarcely any danger whatever.
I can speak feelingly about it, for my career was pretty nearly
brought to an end by a bear, just after I entered the army, some
thirty years ago, at a spot within a few miles from here.
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