After regarding me for some moments, he fell back upon all-fours, and commenced running round the border of the pond, as if searching for a place to enter.
There were still not over two hundred paces between us, for the pond was only twice that in diameter. He could easily have reached me, had he felt so disposed; but for some reason or other, he seemed disinclined to a “swim,” though for nearly half-an-hour he kept running backwards and forwards along the shore.
Now and then he made short excursions out into the prairie; but always returned again, and regarded me afresh, as though determined not to lose sight of me for any length of time. I was in hopes that he might stray round to the other side of the pond, and give me the chance of making a rush for the ravine; but no; he continued on that side where he had first appeared, as though he suspected my design.
I knew not how long the siege was to last; but as I well understood the implacable disposition of the grizzly bear, I could not hope that the scene would be otherwise than protracted.
It lasted a long while—more than an hour I should think. I began to despair. I shivered. The pond must have been a spring, so chill were its waters. I shivered, but kept my place; I dared not move out of it. I even feared to agitate the water around me, lest by so doing I might excite my fierce enemy, and tempt his onset. I shivered, but stood still.
My patience was at length rewarded. The bear, making one of his short tours into the prairie, espied the carcass of the antelope. I saw that he had halted over something, though I could not tell what, for my eyes were below the level of the plain.
Presently his head was raised again, and in his jaws were the remains of the prong-horn. To my joy I perceived that he was dragging it towards the barranca, and in another minute he had disappeared with it behind the cliff.