“Now then, fellows, are you ready?” whispered Dave, when they had gained a point behind the rocks which was not over a hundred and fifty feet from the bears.
“All ready!” was the whispered return.
It must be confessed that some of the youths were nervous. Shadow’s hand shook as he started to level his automatic pistol. Had he been called on to face a bear all alone, it is quite likely that he would have been struck with what is known among hunters as “buck fever,” and would have been totally unable to do anything.
Bang! crack! went the shotgun and the rifle. And almost immediately came the crack! crack! crack! of the three automatic pistols.
Then, as the bears whirled around and started to run, Dave fired again, and so did Roger, and the others continued to discharge their small firearms as rapidly as possible.
Dave’s first shot had been a most effective one, taking one of the bears directly in an ear and an eye. This had been followed up by the second shot, and also several shots from the pistols, and presently the animal raised up on his hind legs and then came down with a crash, to roll over and over among the rocks and brushwood.
“He’s done for, I think!” cried our hero with much satisfaction.
“Don’t be too sure,” remonstrated Ben, who was close behind. “He may be playing ’possum.”
In the meantime, the other bear had leaped out of sight behind some of the rocks. Now, as Dave stopped to reload the double-barreled shotgun, the others went on, intent, if possible, on bringing the second beast low. That he had been hit, there was no doubt, for he had squealed with pain and flapped one forepaw madly in the air.
The youths with the pistols were the first to again catch sight of the second bear. He stood at bay between a number of large rocks, and snarled viciously as soon as he caught sight of them. He arose on his hind legs and made a movement as if to leap directly toward them.