“Give it to him quick, Joe!” exclaimed Bickford. “He’s making for us.”
Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been in great peril.
His faithful rifle did good service.
The bear tumbled to the earth with sudden awkwardness. The bullet had reached a vital part and the grizzly was destined to do no more mischief.
“Is he dead, or only feigning?” asked Joe prudently.
“He’s a gone coon,” said Joshua. “Let us go up and look at him.”
They went up and stood over the huge beast. He was not quite dead. He opened his glazing eyes, made a convulsive movement with his paws as if he would like to attack his foes, and then his head fell back and he moved no more.
“He’s gone, sure enough,” said Bickford. “Good-by, old grizzly. You meant well, but circumstances interfered with your good intentions.”
“Now let us look up Hogan,” said Joe.
The man had sunk to the ground utterly exhausted, and in his weakness and terror had fainted.