When the bear got within a few feet of Balser—so close he could almost feel the animal’s hot breath as it slowly approached—the boy grew desperate with fear, and struck at the bear with the only weapon he had—his string of fish.
Now, bears love fish and blackberries above all other food; so when Balser’s string of fish struck the bear in the mouth, he grabbed at them, and in doing so lost his foothold on the slippery log and fell into the water with a great splash and plunge.
This was Balser’s chance for life, so he flung the fish to the bear, and ran for the bank with a speed worthy of the cause.
“WHEN THE BEAR GOT WITHIN A FEW FEET OF BALSER ... THE BOY GREW DESPERATE WITH FEAR, AND STRUCK AT THE BEAST WITH THE ONLY WEAPON HE HAD—HIS STRING OF FISH.”
When he reached the bank his self-confidence returned, and he remembered all the things he had said he would do if he should meet a bear.
The bear had caught the fish, and again had climbed upon the log, where he was deliberately devouring them.
This was Little Balser’s chance for death—to the bear. Quickly snatching up the gun, he rested it in the fork of a small tree near by, took deliberate aim at the bear, which was not five yards away, and shot him through the heart. The bear dropped into the water dead, and floated down-stream a little way, where he lodged at a ripple a short distance below.
Balser, after he had killed the bear, became more frightened than he had been at any time during the adventure, and ran home screaming. That afternoon his father went to the scene of battle and took the bear out of the water. It was very fat and large, and weighed, so Mr. Brent said, over six hundred pounds.
Balser was firmly of the opinion that he himself was also very fat and large, and weighed at least as much as the bear. He was certainly entitled to feel “big”; for he had got himself out of an ugly scrape in a brave, manly, and cool-headed manner, and had achieved a victory of which a man might have been proud.