The bear, enfeebled by her previous encounter and the loss of blood, strove in vain to shake off these ferocious antagonists. Strong as fierce they clung to her, while the remaining dog buried his fangs in the bear's throat, and, rolling her on her back, thrust his sharp muzzle in her vitals. The blood poured out in a stream; the hard-lived animal quivered a moment, and gave up. Excited by the combat, and the smell and taste of blood, the dogs instantly turned upon baby's bear already half dead, and upon the cubs, and killed them in a moment in spite of all their masters could do to prevent it. The boys would have killed the dogs if they had dared, so enraged and grieved were they at the death of the tame bear, and also at the loss of the cubs which they coveted. "What pretty little things these would have been for us to keep!" said Mugford, taking one of the cubs up in his arms. "Baby's bear would have liked 'em; and how handsome the baby and the two little bears would have looked, all three lying asleep together on the old bear!" "They were big enough to eat any thing," said Proctor. "You're crying, Sammy," said Will Redmond, noticing the tears on his cheeks, which he did not try to conceal. "If I be, I ain't crying for myself, but only 'cause baby'll miss his bear, and 'cause my mother'll feel so bad: she loved the bear 'cause he was so good to the baby. I've seen him lay on the hearth after he'd been asleep, and just waked up, and stretch and gape, and stick out every claw on his feet, just like the old cat will sometimes; the baby would see 'em, and creep along to get hold of 'em; and the bear would put 'em all in so they needn't scratch baby. I've seen that little thing try to suck the bear's paw. Oh, he was a good bear!" "I loved him too," said Archie; "and it makes me feel real bad, just like crying. Let's all cry. There ain't anybody to see us: we'll cry all we want to." It needed but this to open the sluices, for the eyes of every boy were brimfull of tears. They had a good solid cry, and, having given vent to their pent-up emotions, felt relieved. They all collected round the dead body of the bear. Sammy, kneeling down, began to pat his head, and talk to him as though he was alive. "Poor beary! we be all real sorry you're dead: mother and the baby'll be sorry too. The dogs always did hate you, though you never did them a bit of hurt, wouldn't hurt a fly." "If you'd been brought up in the woods same as that wild bear, you'd have licked two of her." "The dogs know they've done wrong," said Rogers: "only see how meaching they look, and keep their tails 'twixt their legs." The wild bear was poor, and not fit to eat: so they skinned her. But baby's bear was as fat as a well-fatted hog, but no one of them for a moment indulged the thought of eating or even skinning him. "If we leave the baby's bear in the woods, and cover him up with brush, the wolves will get him," said Sammy.