It had begun to grow dark, for it was the last of August. Trond and Olsen had gone to another saeter to see some friends of theirs. Immediately after dinner Petter and Karsten had gone out to fish again, because before dinner they had caught only a baby trout about as long as your finger. However, Karsten broiled that, insides and all.
Just as Augusta, Andrine and I were milking out in the barn, we heard a scream that I shall never forget. I thought it was Karsten's voice, and I was so frightened I didn't know what to do with myself. The whole moor was so dark that nothing was to be seen. There came another scream, and without a word Augusta ran out on the moor. But an instant after Karsten came rushing around the corner of the barn, with face pale as death and his hair standing straight up.
"A bear! A bear! He is after me! Oh, help! Oh, oh!"
Into the barn he dashed, Andrine and I at his heels, hastily shutting the door. It was pitch-dark in the barn.
"Was he after you? Where is Petter?"
My heart was pounding. Bears usually knocked a barn-door in with one whack, and here we stood in pitch-black darkness.
Karsten was so out of breath he could scarcely speak.
"Oh! the way he ran! I never would have believed a bear could run so!" panted Karsten.
"Oh!—oh!—oh!" shrieked some one outside the barn. "Help! oh, help!"
It was Petter's voice, and we heard also an animal breathing quickly and then something like a growl.