“You boys want to shoot him?”
Of course they did. What boy under similar circumstances would not have given almost anything for a shot at a bear in a position like this?
So the guns were quickly loaded, and under Tom’s direction the boys were given a position one after another in the stern of the boat. Grandly did the men row so as to bring the bear within range ere the island should be reached. When the bear was about two hundred feet from shore Tom, who had had some difficulty in restraining the boys from firing, now ordered the men to cease rowing, and, as had been arranged with the boys, he gave the word to Sam to fire. Quickly rang out the report of his gun.
“Did you hit him?” said Big Tom.
“I think I did,” was Sam’s odd reply; “for see, he is swimming faster than he did before I fired.”
This quaint answer was met by shouts of laughter from all who understood its comical meaning.
“Now, Frank, it is your turn,” said Big Tom.
Carefully aiming for his head—and really there was not much of it to be seen, for a bear swims low in the water—Frank fired, and a howl and a vigorous shaking of the head told that he had been hit somewhere, but not enough to stop his progress. The boat, under the momentum it had received from the oars, was still moving on about as fast as the bear was able to swim.
“Now, Alec,” said Big Tom, as the lad took his position in the stern of the boat, “when he tries to run through the shallow water near those rocks, your turn comes. Hit him behind the shoulder, good young Scotchman.”
At the kindly mention of his nationality the blood of Alec suddenly rose, and he felt his hand grip that gun and his eye strangely brighten, and he resolved if possible he would make the shot of his life. Steadying himself, he waited until the bear was exactly in the place and position mentioned by the experienced old hunter, who stood just behind him. Then he fired. As the report rang out there was also heard a dull thud, that told that somewhere the