Bear Goes Flying

Coyote tells me that Mister Bear and I have a lot in common. We both have beards, we both like naps, and at various times in our lives, we have had similar shapes. This story takes place when Bear was a little fellow....

When he was young, he watched swans fly over the mountains. Those swans had a beautiful flight, whooooo ... whooooo ... whooooo ... every spring, every fall, whooooo ... whooooo ... whooooo ... their wings stretching, moving the air like the wind.

And Bear, that little cub of a bear, grew up a bit, and out a bit. He grew up and out a whole lot. He grew into a big, clumsy-looking Bear.

One day, as he was watching the swans, he said to himself, "I can do that. I can fly just like the swans. Nothing to it. All I have to do is go rooooo ... rooooo ... rooooo.... I can fly if I want to fly!"

So Bear went hiking, all the way to the top of Mount Shasta. It was a long ways up, and when he got to the top, it looked to him like a long ways down. He perched himself on the peak, toes sticking over the edge, and he said to himself, "That's a long ways down, you know. But I can fly if I want to fly."

He bent his elbows, stuck his fingers in his armpits and counted off, "Rooooo ... rooooo ... rooooo...." he leaped off the top of Mount Shasta, and he tumbled and he tumbled and he tumbled all the way to the bottom of the mountain. THUD!

But Bear was stubborn. He picked himself up. He put his arms back on. He put his legs back on. He looked around and found his big furry head and stuck it back where it was supposed to be, and he said, "Shucks. Sometimes things don't go right the first time. But I can fly. I can fly if I want to fly."

So Bear went hiking, all the way back up to the top of Mount Shasta. It took him a bit longer to get to the peak this time, but when he did, he perched himself at the same place, toes over the edge, arms folded, fingers holding his armpits. He said, "Nothing to it. All I've got to do is go rooooo ... rooooo ... rooooo...."

Bear leaped off the top, flapping his arms, but he tumbled and he tumbled and he tumbled all the way to the bottom of the mountain. THUD! Again!

He got right back up. He put his arms back on. He put his legs back on. He found his head and stuck it back where it belonged. His head was looking a little worn around the edges from all that bouncing down the mountain. But it still worked. Most of the time.

Bear was stubborn. He checked to make sure he still had his tail, then went right back up the mountain. He kept doing this for five years. He leaped and he tumbled, again and again. And even though he looked a little broken in places, his spirit never broke. He kept saying, "I can fly if I want to fly."

At the end of the fifth year, he climbed that mountain again, crawling along, puffing and puffing, his head aching. He crawled clear to the top. He perched on the peak, toes over the edge, arms folded with his hands in his armpits. "I can fly if I want to fly. But it's getting to be an awfully long five years and I'm tired of smashing up all the time. But I can fly. Anybody can. I just takes a little practice and a lot of patience and a hard head."

Bear got his arms going, saying "Rooooo ... rooooo ... rooooo...." Then he stopped. He grinned to himself and said, "Something's not right here. Maybe if I take my hands out of my armpits and stretch out my arms all the way, I could fly better."

Bear stretched out his arms as far as he could. He could almost feel the updraft of the wind pick him up. He flapped and he flapped and he leaped off the top of Mount Shasta. Rooooo ... rooooo ... rooooo....

And he went flying with the swans.

People were watching from the ground. "Hey look at that! There goes that big furry Bear flying with the swans!"

The swans came flying, whooooo ... whooooo ... whooooo.... And there came Bear right behind them, rooooo ... rooooo ... rooooo.... They all went flying around the mountain, and when they came back, Bear and the swans were flying together, whooooo ... rooooo ... whooooo ... rooooo ... whooooo ... rooooo....

People watched Bear and the swans flying together for many years, every spring and every fall.

But one springtime, they looked up and there came swans, whooooo ... whooooo ... whooooo.... But no Bear. Bear wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Bear had become a very good flyer, the best. He flew beyond the swans, beyond the sky, beyond everything. He became stars you see up there in the night. Some folks call those stars the Big Dipper. But the old ones call those stars the Great Bear in the Sky.

And Bear keeps flying, rooooo ... and flying, rooooo ... and flying, roooooooooo....

And that is a Bear story. Yup!