The rock was large enough for all to climb upon, squat down and hold their guns. Not one of the boys was at all afraid, yet the excitement made their hearts beat fast, and in their eagerness to succeed, they held their guns with rather unsteady hands.
Carl leaned over the edge of the rock, and deliberately yelled into the mouth of the cave. There was a low growl as he sprang back, but, after waiting several minutes, no grizzly appeared.
The Indian boy then took a coat which he had brought along, and dropped it down in front of the grizzly's hole.
There was another growl, stronger than the first. And then another. It is difficult to describe the feelings of the boys as they sat there, almost on top of a real grizzly, and a live one at that. Yet they dared not speak, and could only sit still, everyone at high tension, until something, they scarcely dared think what, happened. They felt a measure of safety, however, with Carl and Hawke along.
Finally the grizzly came out and sat down on the coat, looking around. Then he raised himself on his haunches, and smelt the air. Just as he caught sight of the boys, Carl whispered as loudly as he could—
"Now!"
Two guns boomed—Herb's and Fred's. The big animal rolled over with a furious growl, and lay kicking for a second. Then he regained his feet, and, his teeth and red gums showing, was about to make a spring at the party on the rocks. Jerry could not suppress a shriek, and Fly was too excited to do anything but cling to Dunk. Hawke, however, was quick enough for the animal. He let him have it just before Carl's arrow wedged itself in the animal's forehead.
This time the grizzly rolled over for good, and gave very few parting kicks.
Carl sprang down from his point of vantage, and gave the bear a violent push with his foot, almost rolling him over on his back.
The blood was flowing freely from the wounds, while the grizzly's open mouth filled with froth and blood, and his glazed eyes told plainly that he had dug his last root.