Gabriel glanced back over his shoulder. His face was pale but steady.
“Run,” he commanded. “I can keep her back ... hurry....”
They did not stir. Rose and Ruth felt that nothing could make them move away from whatever was to come; Evangeline stood, her little hands clenched and pressed against her breast, her eyes on Gabriel and the advancing beast.
The dog had once more gathered himself up, and now came again to the attack. Just as the bear reared up before Gabriel, its great paws waving, Alphonse sprang. The bear swerved, sinking to all fours, and the dog’s teeth gripped its pointed nose.
At the same moment Gabriel closed in, knife ready. All the girls saw was a whir of brown, a flash of steel, the white spot on Alphonse’s throat he held on grimly; Gabriel thrust the knife deep into the great creature’s neck, close behind the ear.
With an almost human groan the animal swung its heavy paw at the boy, and felled him to the ground. The knife dropped from his hand, rattling on the path.
Rose heard a scream—it was Evangeline—and she saw the girl spring forward to help her playmate and comrade. But Rose herself was quicker. With Gabriel’s fall she had plunged at the knife, snatched it up, and now, brushing Evangeline aside, she made a lunge at the bear, which had rolled over on both boy and dog. Her knife sank into the beast’s head, at the base of the brain. But the stroke was not needed ... the bear was already dead.
“It’s dead,” gasped Rose, and Ruth, sobbing, was beside her, struggling to drag the carcass off the boy, who lay still. Evangeline, on her knees murmuring prayers, had caught his hand in hers.
By frantic efforts the three succeeded in getting Gabriel free. Blood trickled from his left shoulder, but in an instant his eyes opened. He had had the breath knocked out of him, and it took only a few minutes to bring him around.
All the girls were crying, in an excited way, and quite unconsciously. Gabriel sat staring at the huge brown body. Suddenly he exclaimed: