"Shall I shoot?" she finally asked, in a suppressed voice, as he passed near her.
"When you're sartin of plugging him," replied Crockett, never once removing his eyes from the glowing orbs of the beast.
It was plain that if the hunter was going to escape with his life, something must be done to weaken the bear, that was pressing him so close that a collision could not be postponed much longer.
Any man who has ever met Colonel Davy Crockett knows that when fairly aroused he had a fearful temper, and was reckless in what he did. His blood was now fairly up, and he determined that he had retreated about long enough.
"Confound you!" he muttered, as he steadied himself against the side of the wall, preparatory to making his charge, "do you think I am afeard of you?"
And then uttering a yell, such as he had heard escape the throats of the Creek Indians at the massacre of Fort Mimms, he bounded toward his foe.
The bear at this minute was reared on his hind legs, with paws up. Crockett, as he reached these formidable weapons, ducked his head, so as to pass beneath them, and as quick as thought buried his knife into the side of the brute.
It was a terrible blow, and gave the creature such a spasm of pain that his paws dropped almost involuntarily, and Crockett was compelled to extricate himself in such haste, that he was unable to withdraw his knife and take it with him.
This made his situation ten-fold more perilous. He had no weapon at all with which to defend himself, and it was only left for him to await the fierce onslaught of the terrible foe. Thoroughly aroused, he was determined on recovering his knife, even though at the imminent risk of his life.
"Come up-stairs!" shouted the terrified girl, who was vainly seeking a chance to fire upon the bear, "he will kill you now, sure!"