"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" warned Jimmy.
But Bobby did not heed the warning. The bullet from the undischarged barrel went crashing into the animal's shoulder. The bear stumbled, bit furiously at the wound, and then in a rage charged upon his now defenseless enemies.
Polar bears, unless very hungry, or unless placed in a position where they must defend themselves, will rarely attack man. But when wounded they are more likely than not to become furious, and their fury knows no bounds. Bent upon revenge they will attack viciously and are dangerous enemies. The hunter who wounds a polar bear without first taking the precaution to prepare for defense or retreat, tries an exceedingly dangerous experiment.
This was exactly what Bobby had done. The instant he fired the shot he realized that he had not reached a vital spot. In his eagerness to secure the bear he took the chance of his single bullet disabling it. A reckless game it was, but he played it and lost.
Jimmy was unarmed and Bobby had no time to reload, for he knew the bear would charge immediately.
"Run, Jimmy! Run for your life!" he shouted.
But Jimmy needed no warning. He was already putting into action all the speed he could muster, and away went Bobby, also.
Jimmy chose the open space nearer the shore, Bobby a more direct, though more obstructed, course across the island, but both took the general direction of camp. As the two diverged the bear, probably because he was more plainly in view, chose to follow Jimmy, and followed him so strenuously and with such singleness of purpose that he was presently at Jimmy's very heels—so close at his heels, indeed, that had Jimmy stopped or hesitated or lessened his speed for an instant, the infuriated beast would have been upon him.
Bobby was quick to discover that the bear had left his own trail, and he was also quick to discover Jimmy's imminent danger. There was no other help at hand. If Jimmy was to be saved, he must save him. The thought crossed his mind like a flash of lightning. He did not lose his head—Bobby never lost his head in an emergency. He thought of everything. He feared there was not time to reload, but it was the only thing to do. As he ran he drew two shells, loaded with ball, from his pocket. For the fraction of a minute he halted, "broke" his gun, dropped the shells into place, snapped the gun back and threw it to his shoulder, but in the brief interval that had elapsed the bear and Jimmy had so far gained upon him that the distance between him and the bear loomed up before him now as almost hopelessly long. If he only had a rifle, instead of his shotgun! But it was the last hope, and whispering a prayer to God to send the bullet straight, with nerves as tense as steel, he pulled the trigger.