the little bears family - a little tale about Pyros

a little story i write in french about Pyros the Pyrenean bear, translated in english by my dear friend Karen.

 

Having heard that PYROS, elderly statesman of the remaining BEARS in the PYRENEES is dying... PYROS has inspired me to write this little tale.

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Once upon a time in a far-off land, where the climate was mild and where the gentle zephyr plays upon girls' petticoats, there was a little family of bears. There they lived in a pretty thatched cottage: Papa with his tubby belly, sweet Mama always dressed in her frilly white apron and their two little rascals - Chocolate and Cinnamon. In their household, the homely smell of honey cake or grilled meat pervaded the air and nobody could imagine the delights that Papa brought home each day to nourish his little family.

 

Sometimes, one might see brave Pyros looking from the window, his eyes gazing longingly towards the forest's edge, or yet further towards the tall pine trees on the side of the mountain. This evening, he would go out, at nightfall...

 

Each evening, as Pyros left on his quest for food, each evening the fear tormented him that he would not gather sufficient food for his dear Camille and their two growing offspring who, becoming adolescent, could devour plenty. This evening, he went out as usual, straight on ahead of him, in the direction of the mountains. In this quandary, he set off, with his fur all shiny, his hair all silky and long.

 

He hadn't yet made the decision to bring Chocolate with him; as for little Cinnamon, she was still too small, but Chocolate... as long as he could, Papa postponed the decision to teach his son to hunt. His mind was very much preoccupied with this thought. He knew all too well that a bear must know how to feed himself and his family. He knew just as well that you doesn't raise children only to watch over them their whole lives long. He knew all of this full well... But he also knew that today's bears were not yesterday's bears. He knew that URSUS ARCTOS was a species on the path to extinction. He knew that some bears which populated the region had the finger systematically pointed

at them whenever another mountain sheep was found mauled in summer pastures. He knew that less scrupulous hunters ignored the rules and would kill bears, urged on by misplaced pride and a thirst for virility.

 

This evening, he left with a heavy heart...

 

Arriving near the Peak of Aneto, he headed towards the Lake of Oô, clambering down behind a line of trees, by a little offshoot of the lake, positioning himself to look for movements in the water. Day had hardly broken as the light played hide and seek with the clouds. Suddenly, the noise of rustling leaves made him listen. Lightly and quickly, the sound came nearer and nearer. Upon the pebbled beach of the lake, the silhouette of a young bear appeared! Pyros widened his eyes, as dread mixed with anger when he recognised this young cub - his Chocolate!

 

'Unbeknownst, he must've followed me', thought Pyros...

 

Immediately, on hearing a louder noise, the sound of rapid footsteps, a man appeared.

 

Inexperienced and naive, Chocolate had noticed nothing. He stood, pressing himself up against a tree trunk, scratching his back with delight on the rough and crusty bark... At this scene, as uncommon as it was appalling, in the space of a second, Pyros leaped and reared up on his back paws, before his son, facing up to the man.

 

Chocolate had never seen such a situation, protected up until now by his family, but instinct told him that he had been in danger there... The man also understood the situation.

 

Showing that he meant no harm to the two bears, he slowly backed down, avoiding all sudden noise or movement so as not to provoke the bears. He remained like this, in this uncomfortable position, a short while which seemed like an eternity... not one of the 3 protagonists moved.

 

Slowly, as slowly as he could, like an automaton, he opened his big cloth bag and pulled out his telescopic fishing rod. Still slowly, he stood up, easing the cramp which had set in his hardened leg muscles. The bears hadn't looked away from this man for an instant. His movements were slow, very slow...

 

Pyros hadn't known any humans that did anything other than run away on seeing him, screaming and gesticulating in every way. This human was different. The man took to speaking in a soft voice. He decided to express himself. He said to himself that perhaps his message would be heard by two splendid animals as they drew close to him.

 

A rasping, hardly audible sound came from his mouth. He didn't recognise his own voice. The two bears remained attentive and on the lookout. The man lightly cleared the lump in his throat and started to talk...

 

He started to tell the tale that his grandfather had told him when he was little: that there had been bears in the Pyrenees long ago, very numerous bears in the mountains, and as such the bears, tribes and shepherds lived together in harmony. The bears found whatever they needed to feed from nature and sustained themselves by eating fish, fruit and vermin. Nowadays, everything has changed, man has taken over nature. The bear has nothing convenient to eat, the man hunts him and makes trophies; he makes himself greater and belittles the bears further, using them as circus animals and chained up at sideshows.

The voice of the man grew louder, overcome with bitterness in the telling of this shameful behaviour...

 

Lifting his face, he detected Pyros' head movement and saw that the eyes of the bear were tainted with an infinite sadness... He imagined, wrongly or rightly, that his words were being heard...

He looked upon Pyros with tenderness, eye to eye, telling this Pyreneen legend what he says to himself: 'Before man, the bear inhabited the Pyrenees and that the first Pyreneen man was born of a bear.' He never knew whether the bear could understand...

 

He picked up his fishing rod, put its line and bait in place, casting it into the lake, followed at a distance by the two bears. He caught some nice carp and threw some of the succulent fish in the direction of the bears. Cautiously, the bears approached the fish and devoured 4 each! Pyros looked at the man fixedly. The sadness in his eyes had been replaced by curiosity and a delicately touching smile.

 

Pyros took himself off in the direction of the forest and returned towards the man, as if wanting him to understand something. The man understood. Gathering up his fishing gear, calmer than before, he set off following the two bears. After a very long walk, the little group arrived unexpectedly at the cottage.

 

Pyros signalled that the man should approach and join them. Mama Bear stood agog, incapable of thought. Cinnamon looked at her big brother, uttering cute little groans, happy to see him again. The man put his cool bag on the ground and took out a big blue tin. All eyes turned towards this blue tin. Slowly, the man lifted the lid and 12 lovely sausages appeared. The man said: "Take them, you deserve them so much, share them amongst you. You can eat 3 each but do as you see fit - it's all that I have to give you, but sincerely, it's with a very good heart...

 

Pyros regarded the man with a look filled with love. The man was so overcome with emotion, he could neither speak nor move.

 

On gathering himself together, and leaving the bears to themselves, he departed from the lovely little cottage asking himself whether he had dreamed it... or not. With a little smile upon his lips, he took his path with this little thought in mind, which filled him with spirit: 'if only tomorrow could be as beautiful!'

 

Olympe.

Done