"I am afraid they mean business," said Dave, anxiously.
"They are hungry and the deep snow has made it hard for them to get food," answered Mr. Porter.
"I thought bears went into winter quarters in a place like this."
"So they do sometimes, but not always. Besides, I disturbed the wounded bear when I fell over the cliff, and I presume that other beast is his mate."
"I wish I had a rifle. I could get a better shot than with this pistol."
"A good double-barreled shotgun would be a fine thing, Dave. But we'll have to use what we've got. Don't shoot until you are certain of your aim," added Mr. Porter.
A portion of his strength had come back to him, and the new alarm gave him temporary vigor. Yet he knew that to fight off two angry bears would not be easy, and he looked around for some better shelter than that which they at present possessed.
"Here is a small opening between the rocks,—let us back into it, if the bears press us too closely," said he.
He had scarcely spoken when the wounded bear advanced, followed closely by its mate. Dave waited until the foremost beast was within a dozen paces of him, then he fired. There was a growl of pain and the bear tumbled back, landing against its mate.
"Good!" cried Mr. Porter. "Look out!" he added, a second later. "The other one is coming!"