All around the workshops proper were
immense coal sheds, great slag heaps, warehouses, wood piles, and tool
sheds. Just beyond were long rows of workingmen's homes, pretty villas,
schoolhouses, assembly halls, and shops. But there all was quiet and
apparently everybody was asleep. The boy did not glance in that
direction, but gazed intently at the ironworks. The earth around them
was black; the sky above them was like a great fiery dome; the rapids,
white with foam, rushed by; while the buildings themselves were sending
out light and smoke, fire and sparks. It was the grandest sight the boy
had ever seen!
"Surely you don't mean to say you can set fire to a place like that?"
remarked the bear doubtingly.
The boy stood wedged between the beast's paws thinking the only thing
that might save him would be that the bear should have a high opinion of
his capability and power.
"It's all the same to me," he answered with a superior air. "Big or
little, I can burn it down."
"Then I'll tell you something," said Father Bear. "My forefathers lived
in this region from the time that the forests first sprang up. From
them I inherited hunting grounds and pastures, lairs and retreats, and
have lived here in peace all my life. In the beginning I wasn't troubled
much by the human kind. They dug in the mountains and picked up a little
ore down here, by the rapids; they had a forge and a furnace, but the
hammers sounded only a few hours during the day, and the furnace was not
fired more than two moons at a stretch.
Pages:
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397