We didn’t have a clock up at the cabin. When we were on vacation who needed to know what time it was? When Dad was there he had his watch, but when he let us stay at the cabin while he worked we had no way of knowing what time it was. Not very many people drove down our road, but when we were really bored we would make Julie and Sharon run out to the fence and stop passing cars to ask them what time it was. They were so sweet that even though they didn’t want to do it, they always would. People must have wondered about us.
It was kind-of scary at night when Dad was gone. When darkness began to settle over the cabin, we all came inside and played and read in the front room. One night Mom was reading a book out loud when we heard a bell ringing out in the front yard. It sounded like a cow-bell, but it was coming from right outside the front door, inside the yard! We knew the gate had been shut, so how could a cow be in our front yard? We looked out the window, and in the dark it looked sort of like a goat was out front. Phillip stepped out onto the front porch and called back, “It’s a big white dog, with a bell on it’s collar!”
We all piled outside to see the dog. He sure was big, and he was standing in our front yard looking like he wanted a friend. Phillip was already patting him and he seemed friendly, so mom didn’t stop us from going out to meet him, though Julie and Sharon hung back behind her legs. The dog had a collar and tags, but no name. We decided he must be lost, so we got him a bowl of water and gave him our leftover supper.
First thing next morning Phillip ran out to see if he was still there. Sure enough, he was. It seemed that he didn’t have anywhere else to go. For two days he stayed with us, and we began to think of him as our dog. We called him Bing Bell, after some silly movie we had watched on TV.
Late one afternoon a truck drove by, then backed up and stopped. We were always excited in those days when anybody drove by. A man got out of the truck and walked up to the fence.
“Hi,” he greeted Phillip, who was hanging out in the yard with Bing Bell. “I think that’s my dog.”
By that time we had all gathered in the front yard. “We wondered if someone would come looking for him,” Mom said. “We thought he must be lost.”
“Well, he sure is a long way from home,” the man said. “He’s a bear dog, and he didn’t come back with the rest of my dogs when I was hunting a few days ago. I have a lot of dogs, and they help me find bears. They wear bells on their collars so I can follow them. I sure am glad to see this dog, because he is one of the best bear dogs I’ve got! Thanks for taking such good care of him."
“Were you hunting for bears around here?” Keith wanted to know.
“Yes. This is the best bear country in the whole state.”
It was kind-of sad watching him put Bing Bell in the back of his truck and drive away. We were also kind-of nervous about this being bear country. We hadn’t ever seen any bears, except for the two little cubs going through the garbage cans at Fisherman’s Point many years before. We watched for Bing Bell whenever we came to the cabin after that, and we also kept our eyes out for bears. We never saw either one.
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