Bruin: The Grand Bear Hunt

by Mayne Reid

Our hunters were quite taken aback. They had expected, at least, to have been allowed the initiative in any conflict that might occur; but they now saw that, instead of being the assailing party, they were likely to be the assailed!

They had no time for deliberation; for the brace of bears, apparently having satisfied themselves with their threatening demonstrations, dropped down on all-fours, and came galloping onward—almost as fast as horses could have done!

The three hunters fired at once; and not with out effect: for one of the bears fell to their shots. It was the smaller one, and that which had been foremost. Acting without concert, they had all aimed at the same animal—choosing that which was nearest; and this was unfortunate, for had some one of them sighted the other and bigger bear, they might have given him a wound that would have, at least, crippled him.

As it was, he had neither been shot at, nor touched; and the fall of his mate—for it was the male who survived—now so completely exasperated him, that he rushed on with the full determination to deal death among the enemies who had bereaved him.

It was fortunate that he stopped a moment over his fallen companion. He did so as if to convince himself that she was dead. It was only for an instant; but a precious instant that was to all three of the hunters. It gave them sufficient time to take to a tree—each springing up to the one that was most convenient. Alexis and Ivan being young and nimble, easily accomplished this feat; but it cost Pouchskin an effort; and he came very near making it in vain. He had got his arms over a branch, and was drawing his great booted legs after him; but, before he could raise them to a sufficient height, the bear had arrived upon the ground, and reared upward to seize him.

Ivan and Alexis uttered a simultaneous shout of alarm. They saw the shaggy forearms of the quadruped doubled around the legs of their faithful follower; and were looking to see Pouchskin in another moment pulled down from the tree. What was their delight, as well as astonishment, on seeing the bear fall “slap” back to the earth—with one of the ex-grenadier’s great boots fast clutched between his paws—while Pouchskin himself was seen gliding upward to the top branches of the tree!

A shout of joy followed the cry of alarm, to which they had just given utterance; and without another word all three hastened to reload their guns.

Meanwhile the disappointed bear appeared determined to revenge himself on the boot; and for some seconds continued to tear it—both with teeth and claws—till nothing of its original shape remained. Then, scattering the fragments over the ground, he desisted from this idle employment; and rushed back to the trunk of the tree up which Pouchskin had climbed. He knew—from having often made the experiment—that he could not climb it; nor did he attempt to do so; but seizing the slender trunk in his powerful grasp, he shook the tree backward and forward, as if endeavouring to drag it up by the roots or throw it to the ground.

For some time our hunters were not without apprehensions that he might succeed. The tree was not bigger than an ordinary pear-tree; and its trunk vibrated from side to side, and bent over to such an extent, that its roots could be heard cracking beneath the ground.

Pouchskin, far up in the top, was tossed backward and forward—as if he had been a shuttlecock between two battledores—and it was just as much as he could do to keep his hold among the branches, much less finish the loading of his fusil, which he had only half accomplished when the rocking began. Had he been alone, his position would have been one of great danger: for no doubt, in process of time, the bear would have torn down the tree. But the efforts of Bruin were brought to a sudden termination; for Ivan and Alexis, having now reloaded, took careful aim, and sent both their bullets into the body of the beast. One of the shots must have hit him in a mortal part: since, on receiving it, the bear let go his hold, dropped down from his erect attitude, and doubling himself up at the bottom of the tree, looked as if he had suddenly gone to sleep! But the red stream, pouring out from his still distended jaws, told that it was the sleep of death that had overtaken him.