“Will it charge, Johannes?” said the captain.
“Don’t know. I think it will begin to run. Be ready. It is sure to charge when it is wounded. We’ll take it then on the spears.”
At that moment there was a diversion, and the bear raised its head a little to look beyond them.
Steve glanced sharply round to see what the animal was looking at, and became aware of the fact that Andrew McByle was stealing away on tip-toe. This raised Steve’s ire, for the thought flashed through his brain that if anybody had a right to run it was he, the boy of the party; and he wanted to make off very badly, but, paradoxical as it may sound, he at the same time did not want to run, but to help shoot the bear.
“Here! hi! Stop!” he shouted angrily; “don’t run off with that gun!”
“Ahm only going to tak’ oop a fresh poseetion ahint the stanes,” said Andrew hurriedly.
No more was said, for the bear now shook itself, making the beautiful thick hair stand out, and giving the huge animal the appearance of growing rapidly in size. It uttered a low, fierce growl now, and its eyes flashed in the sunshine.
“You’ll have to fire, Handscombe,” said the captain in a low voice; “it’s going to charge. No, stop!”
For just then the bear swung its head round to the right and glanced toward the ice, as if looking out for a way of retreat.