He got away, but he must have had bare spots on his back.
One evening a Mr. Bruin called at our house and stood erect at our north
window. The children thought him one of us, as father, mother and I were
away, and they ran out to meet us, but discovered instead a large black
bear. When they ran out, Mr. Bruin, a little less dignified, dropped on
all fours, and walked leisurely off about ten rods; then raised again,
jumped over a brush fence, and disappeared in the woods.
Next morning we looked for his tracks and, sure enough, there were the
tracks of a large bear within four feet of the window. He had apparently
stood and looked into the house.
[Illustration:]
The first Indian who troubled us was one by the name of John Williams. He
was a large, powerful man, and certainly, very ugly. He used to pass our
house and take our road to Dearbornville after fire-water, get a little
drunk, and on his way back stop at John Blare's. Mr. Blare then lived at
the end of our new road. Here the Indian would tell what great things he
had done. One day when he stopped, Mrs. Blare and her brother-in-law,
Asa, were there.
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