Then he turned to Captain Pamphile: ‘Where does my brother wish to go?’ he said.
‘To Philadelphia.’
‘Follow me, then,’ and the Indian strode towards the forest.
They walked all night, and at daybreak came to the open plains. Here the Indian halted.
‘My brother has arrived,’ he said; ‘from the top of that mountain he will see Philadelphia.’
With these words he plunged back into the forest, and the Captain set out to climb the mountain.
On reaching the top he found his guide had said true, and he saw Philadelphia lying between the green waters of the Delaware and the blue waves of the ocean. Off he started in high glee, though his goal looked quite a two days’ march off. He was stepping briskly along, humming a tune and swinging a stick, when he noticed a black object at some distance. As he drew nearer the object seemed to approach too, and at length he made it out to be a negro.
This was lucky, for he wished to find some place where he could sleep. So he hurried on till he was face to face with the person he had seen.
Then he discovered his mistake. It was not a negro but a bear!
The Captain saw his danger, but he did not lose his presence of mind—though a glance round showed him there was no means of escape.
The bear on his side halted some yards off and examined the Captain.
The Captain reflected that many bullies are cowards at heart, and that possibly the bear might be as much afraid of him as he was of the bear; so he advanced. The bear, not a bit frightened, advanced too. The Captain turned on his heels to retreat, but after three steps found his way barred by a rock. Leaning against it, so as not to be surprised in the rear, he waited.
