The guide was using his bowie knife, which was already stained with blood to the hilt.
Frank did not hesitate about rushing straight toward the battling man and beast, and Old Rocks saw him coming.
"Keerful, boy!" panted the man; "keerful with thet thar rifle! Don't shoot yere, fer yer might bore me."
"I won't hit you," promised Frank. "I will shoot the bear."
"You don't know whar ter put yer lead, an' yer might fire a dozen bullets inter this varmint 'thout finishin' him."
It was evident that the old man was badly winded.
Thus far he had avoided the bear's hug, but he could not hold out long. Barely had he uttered the last words when, with a sudden blow of one paw, the grizzly struck him to the ground.
Frank rushed in, seeing the monster settle on all fours over Old Rocks.
"I'll fix him!" grated the boy, as he thrust the muzzle of his rifle almost against bruin's head and pulled the trigger.
For the first time on record the weapon missed fire.