MUSIC-LOVING BEARS. 33 



deep, sweeping waters of the Calipoola ; 

 and Lyte kept on, and the wild, sweet 

 music leaped up and swept through the de- 

 lighted and dancing boughs above. Then 

 father reached back to the fire and thrust 

 a long, burning bough deeper into the dy- 

 ing embers and the glittering sparks leaped 

 and laughed and danced and swept out and 

 up and up as if to companion with the 

 stars. Then Lyte knew. He did not hear, 

 he did not see, he only felt; but the fiddle 

 forsook his fingers and his chin in a second, 

 and his gun was to his face with the muzzle 

 thrust down between the oxen. And then 

 my father's gentle hand reached out, lay 

 on that long, black, Kentucky rifle barrel, 

 and it dropped down, slept once more at 

 the fiddler's side, and again the melodies; 

 and the very stars came down, believe me, 

 to listen, for they never seemed so big and 

 so close by before. The bears sat down on 

 their haunches at last, and one of them 

 kept opening his mouth and putting out his 

 red tongue, as if he really wanted to taste 



