“What! That o’clock!” cried he. “Oh, then I must be going at once, else I’ll never reach the menagerie tent by half-past twilight.”
Of course the others protested, but when they understood that their visitor really had to leave them, they immediately offered to accompany him at least part way through the forest.
“It won’t take me a minute to get ready,” assured Mrs. Shagg, as she went to the door at the back of the cave. And soon she came forth with a beautiful cashmere shawl, a lovely green parasol, and a bonnet simply covered with shining jet beads. While she was tying the bonnet strings under her chin, Shagg had opened two of the chests. From one he took a glossy silk hat that was almost as tall as the mantelpiece clock; and from the other a cane with a gorgeous gold knob.
“Family heirlooms,” said he, as he handed the walking stick to Little Black Bear for the latter’s inspection. “Yes, sir; wonderful cane it is, too. The very one that belonged to Great Big Bear. Just look at the initials engraved on the top of it.”
Sure enough, there were the three letters, “G. B. B.”—a bit worn, yet still quite distinct.
“And the hat?” asked Little Black Bear, as they climbed the stone steps and came to the clearing, “is it—”
“My grannylocks always liked to tell of the time when she took it and brought it back filled with berries,” put in Tumble Curls, “Goodness, how Great Big Bear did scold!”
“But he ate the berries just the same,” added Mrs. Shagg.
“Then your grannylocks once lived here in the forest like you?” asked Little Black Bear of Tumble Curls, as the four descended the slope.
“Of course she did. Surely you must have heard of my grannylocks—Goldilocks, some called her.”
“Goldilocks!” repeated Little Black Bear. “Goldilocks! Well, I should say I have! But,” he added in a puzzled sort of way, “I always supposed that she and the Three Bears weren’t—weren’t—”
“Weren’t on very good terms?” finished Shagg. “Yes, we all know that story. But, as I said this morning, the fact that Goldilocks broke those chairs proved the very best thing that could have happened to our family. So you may be sure it wasn’t long until she and the Three Bears became the closest of friends.”
Thus they talked as they walked into the deeper depths of the forest. What an odd group they made! First came Little Black Bear, his eyes and his ears wide with attention and his lunch bag still tucked tightly under one arm. At his side skipped Tumble Curls, swinging her bonnet and chattering and laughing or telling no end of wonderful things about her own home that lay in a glade high up the mountain slope. A dozen paces behind them came the two Shaggs, arm linked in arm—he with his cane and very grand hat and she with her parasol and still grander shawl. On they went until they had got well past the great tree in which Little Black Bear had slept through the night; past this and almost within sight of the fringe of the forest. And then Shagg cried to them to halt.