Brave and True | Page 8

tingling. It was
the scream of a woman in mortal terror.
I shouldered, my rifle and turned in the direction from which the
sounds proceeded.
Descending a steep cliff, I found myself in a narrow canon through
which a mountain stream, swollen by the melting snow, rushed with
considerable rapidity. The first object that caught my eye was a woman
carrying a child and struggling through the foaming torrent. Then I
observed, some little distance to the rear, but following with incredible
rapidity, an enormous black bear. He measured at least nine feet from
his nose to the tip of his tail, and was broad in proportion. Though of
enormous size, he progressed at a speed which was surprising.
Something had evidently irritated the brute considerably, for his whole
appearance was characteristic of unrestrained ferocity.
I dragged the panting fugitive from the water and, without asking any
questions, advanced to the bank of the stream and prepared to take aim.
Whether my gentleman had at some period of his life been so closely
associated with the barrel of a sporting-rifle that he understood the
significance of my movement, I know not; but certain it is that as soon
as I raised the weapon, the bear first of all reared himself on his hind
quarters, displaying his long narrow muzzle adorned with an
assortment of ugly fangs, and then uttering a loud noise, curiously
resembling the heavy breathing of a human being, he fell down on
all-fours and retreated behind a convenient boulder, over the top of
which his little eyes gleamed fiercely every now and again.
The woman, who proved to be the wife of the innkeeper at whose
"hotel" I was sojourning, was shivering with the cold, and her wet
garments were rapidly congealing in the keen frosty air. Her little girl
was crying pitifully with the cold and fright.
It was a question whether I should remain and finish off Bruin or hurry
my companions homeward at a fast trot. I decided to adopt the latter
course.

"The bear can wait," I said, as I turned away; "I'll settle him another
day."
We turned our steps in the direction of the camp, and for some distance
walked in silence. Then of a sudden a plaintive moan from the child
reminded me that the wee mite and her mother, soaked with wet, were,
in the cutting air, rapidly assuming the condition of living icicles.
Fortunately I had a flask with me, and, telling the exhausted and
shivering woman to sit down, I rested my rifle against a stump of a tree
and proceeded to prepare a dose of brandy, at the same time cheering
her with words of encouragement.
"We are not far from home now," I said, "and--"
I did not finish the sentence, for a movement behind caused me to turn
round. To my utter astonishment and horror I found myself face to face
with my old friend, or rather enemy. He had evidently followed with
stealthy steps, the snow acting as a carpet to deaden his heavy
footsteps.
My first idea was to give the intruder a dose of cold lead, but that I
soon discovered was out of the question, for the bear had calmly
appropriated my rifle, which lay beneath his paws.
It seemed to me indeed that his ugly face bore a look of triumph as he
crouched over the weapon, and, judging from the blinking of his eyes,
he seemed humanly conscious that, having become possessed of my
trusty and deadly friend, he had me completely in his power. To obtain
possession of the weapon was out of the question; it would have been
fatal to attempt it.
Motioning the woman to seize the child and hurry forward without me,
I prepared to rout the enemy by some means other than powder and
shot. What means I intended to adopt I frankly admit I had not the
remotest idea. The incident, so unexpected, so strange, took me
completely by surprise, and it was some moments before I recovered
my senses and presence of mind. Then I remembered that grizzlies,
despite their huge bulk and ferocious tempers, are curiously alarmed by

noise.
I had even heard that they had been driven off, with their tails between
their legs, by the mere beating of a tin can. With this idea in my mind I
hastily produced the metal cup of my flask, and striking it furiously
with the hilt of my hunting-knife, I continued to produce a din which
ought to have taken effect upon my four-footed adversary. I am sorry to
say it did not, however. Uttering the curious sound peculiar to grizzlies,
the brute made as though it would approach still closer.
The bear was somewhat lean after his long winter's sleep in some