Buster the Big Brown Bear — Themes and Context

ister was like, and so he didn’t miss either. He had his mother, who was good enough for him, and when he was old enough to crawl out on the rocks in front of his home he would spend hours and hours there playing with her in the bright sunshine.

Sometimes Mother Bear had to leave him while she went off in the woods to get something to eat. At such times she made Buster stay in the cave.

“You mustn’t show yourself on the rock, Buster,” she cautioned, “until you hear me call you. I won’t be gone long.”

Buster was a dutiful little cub, and he accepted his mother’s commands without asking why or wherefore. Perhaps that was because he was too young to understand, or because his mother was very strict with her only child. When he was very young, so young that he could hardly see at all, his mother used to tell him what to do and then gently but firmly make him do it, using her big hairy paws to enforce obedience.

These early lessons were never forgotten, and Buster got in the habit of minding his mother just as naturally as a tree grows straight when trained upright to a stake. But Buster grew curious as he got older, and one day when his mother was going away he asked: “Why can’t I play in front until you come back?”

“Because,” replied Mother Bear, “Loup the Lynx might come along and eat you up.”

“Who is Loup the Lynx?” asked Buster, turning very pale, for he had a wholesome dread of being eaten up.

“Never mind, dear. You stay inside until I come back.”

That was a mighty argument of Mother Bear’s to make her child obey. He was so afraid of Loup the Lynx that he never dared to poke his nose out of the cave when his mother was away. And sometimes the temptation to do it was very strong, for as he grew bigger and stronger the sunshine had a great fascination for him. Nothing in the world seemed pleasanter than to roll around on the rocks outside, blinking at the warm sun, and smelling the odors of the sweet flowers. It was springtime then, and the woods were full of the song of birds and the drone of busy insects. It made one wish to be outdoors all the time.

“You must be careful today, Buster,” his mother said to him one morning, “and stay inside the cave. I heard Loup the Lynx hunting around here last night. I don’t like him. He’s a rough, brutal fellow, and nearly always up to some mischief. I hate to leave you a minute today. But I must.”

Buster kept his promise, and remained inside all the morning, playing with his tail and the few leaves the wind blew in the cave. Toward noon, however, he got tired of this, and also very hungry. When a bear is hungry, he becomes very bold and will do things that would never occur to him at other times.

Buster sniffed in all the corners of the cave for a bite of something good to eat, but there was nothing more digestible than rocks and stones. Then he crept nearer the entrance, venturing a little closer every moment.

A streak of sunlight played on the rocks in front of him, and it so fascinated him that he began trying to catch it with his little paws. He had it, then lost it, and then sprang for it again. But the sunlight danced around, and never stayed caught.

In the midst of this game of tag with the sunlight, Buster heard a noise outside. It sounded like some animal scuffing heavily over the rocks, and the little fellow was so sure it was his mother that he ran out to greet her.

But what a surprise met him! Instead of Mother Bear there stood Loup the Lynx, crouching and sniffing, with his long tail swishing back and forth making a noise like a nutmeg grater.

Buster had never seen Loup the Lynx before, but nobody had to tell him now. He recognized him instantly. His first thought was to run back in the dark cave. Loup had a great dread of being caught in the cave by Mother Bear. If he had to fight with a full grown bear he preferred to be out in the open where he could spring in a tree if knocked over by a big paw. So he resorted to cunning to induce Buster to come out further.