“Yes, come on,” replied Raymond.
Side by side they started to leave the entrance to the bear’s den. But as they stepped out the old she bear uttered a whine, and the cubs in the cave gave answer. Then the mother bear saw the intruders in the semi-darkness and let out a growl of savage rage.
“She’s going to fight!” cried Dave.
“She thinks we have hurt her cubs!” returned the backwoodsman.
Raymond was right, and before they could take a dozen steps up the rocks the black bear was leaping after them, snarling viciously and showing her long, white teeth.
“We’ll have to shoot—or be chewed up!” gasped Dave, when the bear was less than fifty feet from him.
He had scarcely uttered the words when Raymond’s rifle rang out. But the aim of the backwoodsman was poor, and the bullet passed wide of the beast. The report stopped the bear but a second, then she came on as furiously as ever.
It was now Dave’s turn to shoot, and he lost no time in blazing away. He was more fortunate, and the black beast was brought to another halt, this time with a bullet in her shoulder. But the fight was not yet knocked out of her, and she tried to limp over the rocks, uttering growl after growl.
“She won’t give in,” said Raymond, and both started to reload. While they were doing this the cubs, two in number, appeared at the entrance to the cave-like opening.
On catching sight of her offspring, the wounded bear paused once again. She evidently wished to pursue her enemies and at the same time she wished to make certain that her cubs were really unharmed. Slowly she limped back to her own.