If
they got a slap from his paws, over they'd go. Dogs new to the business
were often killed by the bears."
"Were there many bears near your home, Mr. Wood?" asked Mr. Maxwell.
"Lots of them. More than we wanted. They used to bother us fearfully
about our sheep and cattle. I've often had to get up in the night, and
run out to the cattle. The bears would come out of the woods, and jump
on to the young heifers and cows, and strike them and beat them down and
the cattle would roar as if the evil one had them. If the cattle were
too far away from the house for us to hear them, the bears would worry
them till they were dead.
"As for the sheep, they never made any resistance. They'd meekly run in
a corner when they saw a bear coming, and huddle together, and he'd
strike at them, and scratch them with his claws, and perhaps wound a
dozen before he got one firmly. Then he'd seize it in his paws, and walk
off on his hind legs over fences and anything else that came in his way,
till he came to a nice, retired spot, and there he' d sit down and skin
that sheep just like a butcher. He'd gorge himself with the meat, and in
the morning we'd find the other sheep that he'd torn, and we'd vow
vengeance against that bear.
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