“‘Five minutes more and we were stumbling up the trail—Dick and William ahead, Virginia and I next, and Mary and Vivian in the rear. I don’t know where my heart was, but I know it was unfastened, for I distinctly felt it in a dozen different places! Vivian had actually forgotten to be frightened, and Mary kept saying over and over again, “Just think of it! Just think of it! A bear! Just think of it!” As for Virginia, she strode along with her head high, just as she always does, and looked as though she were able to cope with any grizzly on earth.
“‘We gained the clearing almost as soon as Dick and William, and—now, listen, all of you!—there was our bear!!! I’ll never forget that 44 moment! I don’t believe I’ll ever in my life experience so many different feelings—triumph and pity and fear and admiration, all struggling together. The poor thing lay in the hot sun by the creek, rods from the little log house which had concealed the trap, and one of his forelegs was securely held in that cruel, iron grip. A long, strong chain attached to some logs held the trap secure, though bark was torn in layers and strips from the trees near by, whose trunks the poor, mad, suffering animal had climbed—trap, chain, and all. But now—nearly worn out—he lay in the creek, sick at heart and ready to die.
“‘As Dick drew the big gun from the holster, and went nearer, the bear rose to his feet and growled—a fierce, awful growl that sent Vivian trembling to the thicket. All I could think of just then was Roland keeping at bay the Saracens at Roncesvalles, or Leonidas withstanding the Persians at Thermopylæ. There was something grand in the way that big bear faced Dick. I shall always admire him for it as long as I live. I rather believe he was glad to die as Leonidas 45 and Roland were—secure in the thought that his spirit could never be overcome.
“‘William turned his back as Dick raised the big gun, and made ready to shoot. Then he said something about seeing to the horses, and hurried down the trail. Mary joined Vivian in the thicket, and so did I. I couldn’t help it. We turned our backs, too, and stopped our ears with our fingers. Virginia was the only one who stayed. She stood by Dick as he aimed and shot. Afterward she told me she would have felt mean to desert a hero whose spirit was just about to be taken away from him. She wanted to pay her last respects. But I know it wasn’t easy, for when we all came tremblingly back a few minutes after Dick had shot, her eyes were brimful of tears.
“‘Then William, too, returned, leading Siwash, and together he and Dick hoisted the big bear across Siwash’s saddle, binding him securely with the rope. After the horses had become satisfied that there was no occasion for alarm, William led Siwash at the head of a triumphal procession, and the rest of us followed, Vivian on William’s 46 Ginger. Down the trail we went, unconscious of scratches and aches and sunburn, now that our aim had been accomplished, and our goal realized. The awful feeling of pity which we had felt by the creek went away somewhere, and we were but victors holding a triumph.
“‘Virginia and I wondered as we rode along together why it is that you can feel so full of pity one moment at the thought of killing something, and yet so full of triumph the next after you’ve conquered and killed it. We’ve decided that the triumphant feeling is something bequeathed to us by the cave-men like those in The Story of Ab you know—an instinct that makes you want to prove yourself master; and that the pity is a sign we’re all growing better instead of worse. Don’t you think that’s a fairly good explanation? Of course it is needless to say that Virginia thought it out!
“‘Hannah’s calling me to supper, and I must hurry. Mr. Hunter and the boys had just reached home from Willow Creek as we rode down the lane. I wish you could have seen Jack and 47 Carver when they saw the bear. They were wild, and hailed us as though we were Augustus entering Rome! Best of all, Mr. Hunter says he is going to send the skin to you, Dad—it’s all black and curly—for the library floor. Isn’t it splendid of him?
“‘I simply must run and wash, and rustle a clean middy somewhere.
“‘Loads of love,
“‘Priscilla.