“I cannot feel any timidity,” replied Christian, “since I don’t know anything about the dangers of this hunt, and I do not consider myself such a coward as to be unwilling to go where danger of any kind is to be encountered. I repeat that I have no sort of vanity in the matter; I have never performed any exploit which gives me a right to monopolize a triumph. Can you not give me a place which will make all our chances equal?”
“That is impossible. We have equal chances when we draw lots; but the one who wins must take the lead.”
“Very well,” said Christian, “I will take the lead, I will start the game; but, I assure you, if there is any one here indifferent to killing him with his own hand, it is myself; in fact, I should much prefer having time to examine the action and walk of the animal while he is alive.”
“But suppose he should fly, and make his escape before you can examine him? No one can foresee what his caprice will be. The bear is usually timid, and, for the most part, in case of assault, he thinks only of flight, except when he is wounded. Be advised by me, Christian; and if you really care to see anything interesting, undertake the attack: otherwise, you will perhaps only see the dead animal after the combat; for it seems that he is intrenched in a narrow space, behind some thick brambles.”
“Well then, I accept your offer,” said Christian, “and I promise to show you a bear-hunt this evening, on my stage, into which I will try and introduce something entertaining. Yes, really, I will be as amusing as possible, in proof of my gratitude. And now, major, tell me what I must do, and what is the best method for killing a bear properly, without making it suffer too much; for I am a sentimental hunter, and must acknowledge that I am not in the slightest degree ferocious.”
“What!” rejoined the major, “have you never seen a bear killed?”
“Never!”
“Oh! then, that is different; we withdraw our proposition. No one here wants to see you disabled, dear Christian! Isn’t that so, comrades? And what would Countess Margaret say, if we should carry back her partner minus a leg?”
The lieutenant and corporal agreed with the major, that it would not do to expose a novice to a serious engagement with this ferocious beast; but Margaret’s name, which, to Christian’s great regret, had been pronounced as associated with him, had set his heart beating. From that moment he claimed the favor that had been granted him, with as much ardor as he had before shown modesty or indifference in avoiding it.
“If I should happen to be successful in killing this bear in good style,” he thought, “this barbarian princess will not blush so deeply, perhaps, at our defunct friendship; and if the bear kills me in a tragic manner, she may, possibly, shed in secret a tear of pity over the fate of the poor actor.”