So he followed along, trotting in his elephantine style, and to carry out the illusion, he called out:
"Hold on, you pig coward bears; I got you now, and I shoots you sure, in one minnit."
The bear, somewhat alarmed, trotted so rapidly ahead that it was nearly lost to view in the darkness.
Now was his time.
Dropping as suddenly as if he was shot, he crawled on all fours, as rapidly as his bulky form would admit, until he had gone something like a hundred feet, when, panting and tired, he paused and listened.
The darkness around him was too great for him to see any thing of the "bear," but the sound of a faint, muffled whoop told him that he had been none too soon in his movement, and his foe was signaling to some confederate, and they were both endeavoring to remedy the slip upon their part.
"Yaw; lets 'em look!" chuckled Hans. "I dinks dey won't find me purty soon as never vos."
Waiting until he was thoroughly rested and could hear no more, he arose to his feet, and resumed his flight, taking good care to continue on in the direction upon which he had started, and going further and further away from the dangerous vicinity of his enemy, who had shown so much ingenuity in endeavoring to draw him on to his own destruction.
So far as he could do so, Hans Bungslager advanced without making any noise, for he knew how sharp the sense of hearing was upon the part of the Indians. He plodded along in this manner, for the better part of an hour, when his further progress was checked by his coming upon the bank of the creek, to which I have made frequent reference.
Here he paused in a quandary.