“He has gone mad,” cried Bart, and as he spoke he thought of his own sensations a few minutes before, and how he had felt tempted to do this very thing.
“No, he arn’t,” said Joses, throwing the remains of his cigárito over the precipice, and lifting his rifle; “he’s got bears after him.”
Almost as he spoke the great rough furry body of an enormous black bear came into sight, and without a moment’s hesitation walked right out along the branch after the man.
“There’s another,” cried Bart, “shoot, Joses, shoot. I dare not.”
It seemed that Joses dare not either, or else the excitement paralysed him, for he only remained like Bart, staring stupidly at the unwonted scene before them as a second bear followed the first, which, in spite of Sam’s efforts to get into safety, had overtaken him, crept right upon him, and throwing its
forepaws round him and the branches as well, hugged him fast, while the second came close up and stood there growling and grunting and patting at its companion, who, fortunately for Sam, was driving the claws at the ends of its paws deeply into the gnarled branch.
“If I don’t fire they’ll kill him,” muttered Joses, as the huge branch visibly bent with the weight of the three bodies now upon it. “If I kill him instead it would be a mercy, so here goes.”
He raised his rifle, took careful aim, and was about to draw the trigger, but forbore, as just then the report of Bart’s piece rang out, and the second bear raised itself up on its hind legs, while the foremost backed a couple of feet, and stood growling savagely with its head turned towards where it could see the smoke.
That was Bart’s opportunity, and throwing himself upon his breast, and steadying his rifle upon a piece of rock, he fired again, making the foremost bear utter a savage growl and begin tearing furiously at its flank.