Buster was so enraged at the treatment he had received that the moment one of the men touched him he growled and snapped at the hand. He had nearly suffocated in the blanket, and all the way through the woods he had been bounced and jounced around cruelly. His captors had seemed to take delight in tormenting him.

So you cannot exactly blame him for being very angry when one of the men poked him in the ribs with a hand. The hand was quickly withdrawn the moment Buster snapped at it.

“The little beast,” snarled the owner of the hand. “I’ll teach him to bite!”

Before Buster knew what was coming, he was slapped over the head with a stout stick. It stunned him for a moment, and he lay very quiet. But when he got back his senses, he showed his teeth again and sprang for the man.

This time he was knocked over and kicked about the room until he ached in every bone. His two captors came for him with short, stout sticks, which they used freely. Again and again Buster sprang at them, and tried to bite them, but each time he was knocked down.

You see, Buster was only a cub, and he was no match for two full grown men, but he had the spirit of his wild ancestors in him, and he fought until he was hardly able to stand up. Then he dropped down sullen and resentful, beaten into silence, but with his spirit still flaming with anger.

From that day began a new life for Buster. He was no longer treated kindly and coaxed to do tricks. Every time he failed to do what his captors demanded of him he was kicked and cuffed about, and when he obeyed them he was not rewarded by any sugar or honey.

Indeed, he never tasted either of these sweet things. What he had to eat were scraps of bread or meat which the men threw to him after they had eaten all they wanted. Instead of having the freedom of a cabin, he was kept chained up in a small, dark hut.

And what a hut it was! It was dirty and smelly, with scarcely any sun or daylight in it. At night time the men lighted a dirty old lamp or a smelly candle which spluttered and dripped without giving much light. His bed was the bare, hard floor, with nothing for a covering except a few whisps of straw.

Buster rebelled at all this treatment. He couldn’t get used to it. The men never spoke a kind word to him, nor ever patted him on the back in a friendly way. They whipped him for the slightest thing, and made him so afraid of them that finally he ran whenever one of them approached.

But even this wasn’t the worst of his captivity. In a short time his captors began to teach him to dance and do tricks, but not in the gentle way his former friends did. They put a muzzle on his nose so he could not bite any one, and tied a chain to his neck. Then with a long pole, one end of which was sharpened, they prodded him into dancing. If he didn’t dance fast enough to suit them they jabbed him with the sharp pole, and sometimes when he was so tired he could hardly stand they made him stand on his head and turn a somersault.

As a reward for all this Buster was given a few dry crusts of bread and a drink of water, but never any honey or sugar. At night time, sore and tired, he would curl up in the corner of his room, and think of the past. With tears in his eyes, he thought of his happy home in the cave, of his mother who was so kind to him, of Loup the Lynx, and of the two men who had saved him from the river, and fed him with rich milk and sugar and honey.

Oh, how he wished he was back with them or at home in the cave with his mother! But wishing wouldn’t help him, and after a while he began planning a way to escape. He decided to be good, and obey his cruel masters, but the first chance he had he would run away from them.

After that Buster became a model bear. He tried to please his masters, not because he liked them, but because he was waiting for the chance to run away. He was really a very bright bear, and within a couple of months he could do many tricks and stunts. He was given a tin cup, which he was taught to hold out to people, and when pennies were placed in it he bowed and carried them to the man with the pole.

One day he was taken out on the streets, and was led along until they came to some children playing. One of his masters played a wheezy old organ, while the other shook the chain and told Buster to dance.

Now dancing out in the fresh air, with children watching him and clapping their hands, was very much pleasanter than in his dirty room, and Buster enjoyed it. He danced as he never did before, and when the man holding the chain told him to stand on his head and turn a somersault he obeyed promptly.

There was a clapping of hands, and a shout of pleasure came from all sides. Buster got to his feet, bowed, and repeated the performance. Then a little girl, holding the hand of a gentleman, approached Buster and handed him a stick of candy.

It was time for him to pass the tin cup for pennies, but Buster was so pleased with the little girl’s attention, and so hungry for something sweet, that he forgot his duties and took the candy. But before he could put it in his mouth the man with the chain jerked him back and prodded him with the sharp pole.

Buster grunted with pain and hurriedly picked up the tin cup. A shout of anger went up from the crowd, and the gentleman holding the little girl’s hand spoke sharply to Buster’s master. Then he picked up the stick of candy and handed it to Buster, who took it and tucked it in his mouth. How sweet and delicious it tasted! It made him think of the days when he was kept in the cabin with the two campers who had rescued him from the river.

Once more there came a jerk on the chain, and the pole prodded him in the side. He had forgotten to pass the tin cup for pennies. The candy had made him forget his duties.

Now it was not Buster’s fault that the crowd didn’t fill his cup with pennies. Indeed, it was because they knew the money was to go to the two men and not to Buster that the people refused to pay.

“They don’t deserve anything!” somebody said. “They’re cruel to the poor creature! Don’t give them anything!”

Buster made a complete circle of the double row of men, women and children, but not a penny was dropped in his cup. When he returned, finally, and handed the empty cup to his master he was greeted by an angry cuff. There was an angry growl from the people, and the men fearing trouble led Buster away, jerking him hard with the chain.

But that wasn’t the last of his punishment. That night when he got home Buster was sent to bed without even his crust of bread. The men were angry because he hadn’t collected many pennies for them, and like many other people in this world they laid all the blame of their failure upon another. Buster was the scape-goat.

In the middle of the night, Buster thought of the little girl who had given him the stick of candy, and groaning with pain and hunger he made up his mind to run away very soon and find the girl if he had to travel half around the world. She would at least be kind to him, and that was all he wanted. On the very morrow he would plan a way to get out of the hut and begin his search for the girl with brown eyes and dimples in her cheek.

Buster gets away in the next story, but he joined a circus instead of finding the little girl who had been kind to him.