



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Bruin, by Captain Mayne Reid.

________________________________________________________________________
The story told is quite good one, but is rather spoilt by the author's
insistence on showing how clever he is by calling the animals and plants
that appear in the story, by their Latin names.

Two young brothers, the sons of a Russian nobleman, ask their father if
they may spend a while travelling the world.  He agrees, but lays down
two conditions: one, that they should bring back the skins, in good
condition, of every species of bear there is; two, that they should
proceed from east to west, or from west to east, without doubling back
on their tracks, except, of course, while actually engaged in the chase.

The boys, for they are still in their teens, accept the conditions, and
set off westward, visiting all sorts of interesting places in Europe and
elsewhere, and gathering numerous bearskin trophies on the way.  Oddly
enough they never go to Australia, but maybe the Koala bear is not a
bear, within the definition of the word.

They take with them an old retired guardsman, Pouchskin, who looks after
them generally, and takes a lot of the knocks of the journey.
Eventually they return home, where the boys are lauded as heroes,
and Pouchskin returns to obscurity.
________________________________________________________________________
BRUIN, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE PALACE GRODONOFF.

On the banks of the Neva, near the great city of Saint Petersburg,
stands a splendid palace, known as the Palace Grodonoff.  It is the
property of a Russian nobleman of that name, as it is also his place of
residence.  Were you to drive up to the front gate of this grand palace,
you would see a coat-of-arms sculptured in granite over the entrance.
In this piece of sculpture, the principal and most striking figure is a
bear, with the blade of a knife buried in his breast, the haft being
clutched by a human hand!  Open the gate, and enter the spacious
courtyard.  Inside, on the right and left, you will observe two live
bears--both of chestnut-brown colour, and each of them as big as a
buffalo.  You cannot fail to notice them, for, ten chances to one, they
will rush towards you with fierce growls; and were it not that a strong
chain hinders them from reaching you, you might have reason to repent
having entered the courtyard of the palace Grodonoff.  Look around you
in the courtyard and over the different doors that open upon it; you
will again see the crest of the bear, sculptured in stone; you will see
it over the stables, the coach-house, the granary, the kitchens,--
everywhere.  You may know by all this, that it is the coat-of-arms of
the Baron Grodonoff, whose crest is a bear with a blade buried in its
breast, and a human band clutching the haft.

You will naturally conclude that there is some history connected with
this singular tableau--that it is the commemoration of some deed done by
a Grodonoff, entitling him to use the bear as his heraldic device.  This
is quite true; and if you enter the picture-gallery of the palace, you
will there behold the deed more explicitly represented, in a large
oil-painting hung conspicuously in the centre of the wall.  The scene of
this painting is a forest of old trees, whose grey, gnarled trunks stand
thickly over the ground.  There is only a little open space or glade in
the middle; and this is occupied by three figures, two men and a bear.
The bear is between the two men; or, rather, one of the men is prostrate
upon the ground--where he has been struck down by a blow from Bruin's
paw--while the huge animal stands over him reared up on his hind
quarters.  The other man is upon his feet, apparently engaged in a
desperate wrestle with the fierce brute, and likely to prove the
conqueror--as he has already buried the blade of a large hunting-knife
in the animal's breast, and directly over the region of its heart.
Indeed, the shaggy monster already shows signs of succumbing.  His paw
has dropped from the shoulder of his antagonist, his long tongue lolls
out, the blood rushes from his mouth and nostrils, and it is evident
that his strength is fast forsaking him, and that he will soon sink
lifeless upon the earth.  You will notice that the two men who figure in
the painting are very dissimilar in appearance.  Both are young men, and
both are in hunting costume; but so unlike in their dress, that you
could not fancy they followed the same occupation.  He upon the ground
is richly attired. 