BEN; THE STORY OF A CUB. 



know what his mother would have 

 preferred if she had been with him, 

 and formed his taste accordingly. Af- 

 ter a few days of this process of feed- 

 ing, he would not taste cooked meat, 

 unless half starved. He wanted it 

 raw, and from that time we did not 

 dare leave any fresh meat within his 

 reach, except such as we wanted him 

 to have. We had to hang the venison, 

 the birds and the fresh fish in trees. 

 Then we taught Ben to turn somer- 



hill. He would make perhaps half a 

 dozen turns, and then stop and look 

 up, as much as to say : 



"Is that enough?" 



If I said : 



"No, go ahead," he would double 

 up and away he would go again. 

 When I said, 



"All right," he would come for the 

 mess table. Finally, as soon as I 

 would pick up the frying pan and 

 start for the fire, he would begin 



ft 



PLAYING CIRCUS FOR JERRY. 



saults. He took to these circus an- turning somersaults ; and perhaps ev- 



tics readily, and thereafter whenever ery 3 minutes during the cooking pro- 



his meal was ready, I would say to cess he would spin a few, and then 



™ : T look up to see if I were ready for 



Now, Ben, turn a somersault and him. 



you may have your breakfast." Sometimes when going through 



. Immediately he would double up brushy country we would put Ben in 



like a ball and go rolling down the a gunny sack and tie this on the pack. 



One evening when we struck camp 

 and were throwing off the packs, Jer- 

 ry Johnson, an old trapper, came 

 around. After the usual greetings 

 he was looking about camp and saw 

 the gunny sack showing evidence of 

 internal life. He asked me what was 

 in it. I told him a cub. He said, 

 "May I see it ?" 



