He had stationed other men farther up the ravine, and in a few minutes the dogs yelped warningly, and the man at the upper station shouted:
"Look out! here he comes!"
"Bang!" went the gun, and then the dogs rushed by in a solid pack with a huge she bear at their heels.
"There are two of them," somebody said, and in a moment everything was in the wildest confusion.
"Man alive! don't you see that wounded grizzly rolling in the grass. He is not badly hurt, but he will be after you in a second. Give him another dose, and run," said the leader excitedly, to the new hunter who was standing stock still and gazing around him helplessly. He did not seem to hear what was said, and before he recovered from his paralyzing fright, the bear grabbed him.
"Help! help! help! For God's sake come here! I am being killed!" he screamed.
"Lie perfectly still and pretend you are dead," said the leader. "Make no sound when I shoot, and crawl behind that big rock as soon as you get up."
The knowing dogs barked and raged around the bear until he could not tear the prostrate man. They kept him turning round and round, and the daring hunter coolly waited until his head was away from the wounded man's, and then he shot him through the fore leg. Down he fell and kicked and scratched the fallen hunter, but true to his instinct got up and gave chase to the leader, with the dogs in full cry behind him. The wounded man managed to reach the rock, and by scrambling up on its jagged sides was comparatively safe. From his height he could see what the other men were doing.
"I am all right," called the leader from a neighboring tree, "but how is it with you?"
"My powder-horn is crushed and broken and my arm is bitten through. There is blood running down my face too, but I think that is only scratches."