He did not seem to gain, neither did he lose.
So far the race had been about even, but Bob felt he could not keep up that terrific strain much longer.
As he ran he fingered his gun nervously.
Should he risk a shot?
"I must do something," he said to himself desperately.
And wheeling about he took hasty aim and blazed away.
The shot was not a bad one. The bullet struck the polar bear in the side of the head, causing him to stagger back and halt.
On went Bob again, and by the time the bear recovered sufficiently to continue the pursuit he was nearly fifty yards in advance.
But the bear was undaunted, and on he came as swiftly as before.
Once Bob stumbled and almost gave himself up for lost.