“We were in no condition to relish this amusement. Every man hastened to arm himself, those who had emptied their rifles hurriedly re-loading them.
“‘For your life don’t!’ cried Garey, catching at the gun of one of the hunters.
“The caution came too late: half-a-dozen bullets were already whistling upwards.
“The effect was just what the trapper had anticipated. The bears, maddened by the bullets, which had harmed them no more than the pricking of as many pins, dropped to their all-fours again, and, with fierce growls, commenced descending the cliff.
“The scene of confusion was now at its height. Several of the men, less brave than their comrades, ran off to hide themselves in the snow, while others commenced climbing the low pine-trees!
“‘Caché the gals!’ cried Garey. ‘Hyar, yer darned Spanish greasers! if yer won’t light, hook on to the weemen a wheen o’ yer, and toat them to the snow. Cowardly slinks,—wagh!’
“‘See to them, doctor,’ I shouted to the German, who, I thought, might be best spared from the fight; and the next, moment, the doctor, assisted by several Mexicans, was hurrying the terrified girls towards the spot where we had left the cimmaron.
“Many of us knew that to hide, under the circumstances, would be worse than useless. The fierce but sagacious brutes would have discovered, us one by one, and destroyed, us in detail. ‘They must, be met and fought!’ that was the word; and we resolved to carry it into execution.
“There were about a dozen of us who ‘stood up to it’—all the Delaware and Shawanoes, with Garey and the mountain-men.
“We kept firing at the bears as they ran along the ledges in their zigzag descent, but our rifles were out of order, our fingers were numbed with cold, and our nerves weakened with hunger. Our bullets drew blood from the hideous brutes, yet not a shot proved deadly. It only stung them into fiercer rage.