The declivity was abrupt, and the rush of the river, too swift to succumb to the grip of winter, sounded faintly up from below. Suddenly he halted listening, and the sound of breaking undergrowth came to him again and again; he waited for the cry of the human, but it did not come. With beating heart he hurried on, his mind was easier and his thoughts centred upon the killing of the grizzly. His rifle was ready to hand and he looked for a sight of the dark fur through the bush ahead.
Now his movements became almost Indian-like in their stealth. Bending low to avoid the rustling branches, he crept on, silently and swiftly. He no longer followed the tracks. He had turned off, meaning to come up with his quarry against the wind. At every opening in the bush he paused, his keen eyes alert for a sign of his prey. But the leafless branches of the scrub, faintly tinged with the signs of coming spring, alone confronted him; only that, and the noise of breaking brushwood ahead.
It quickly became plain to him that the bear was no longer advancing, but was moving about uncertainly; and as he realized this, his heart was gripped with a terrible fear. Had the brute come up with his prey? Had the tragedy been played out? He dashed forward, throwing all caution to the winds; but ere he had gone fifty yards he came to a halt, like one paralyzed.
His eyes, which had been peering ever ahead, had suddenly dropped to the ground. It seemed as though they could no longer face that which they looked upon. For a moment his face worked as might that of a man in great pain. Then its expression changed and a flush mounted to his brow; a flush of indescribable rage. Again his eyes were raised and a devilish look peered out from them.
An opening not two acres in extent lay before him. In its midst was a blackened tree-trunk, limbless, riven; a forest giant blasted by some mountain storm. Nick was standing beside it; his gun rested against its blackened sides, and, upon a fallen bough, scarcely a yard away, Aim-sa was seated. They were in deep converse, and Ralph was near enough to hear the sound of their voices, but not to distinguish their words. As he strained his tingling ears to catch the tenor of their speech, he could hear the movements of the bear in the adjacent woods.
The two in the open seemed all unconscious of what was going on so near them. Nick was gazing upon the woman, his heart laid bare in his eyes. And Aim-sa was smiling up into his face with all the arch coquetry of her sex, with that simple, trusting look which, however guileful, must ever appeal to the strong man.
For awhile Ralph looked on. The exquisite torture of his heart racked him, but he did not turn away to shut out the sight. Rather it seemed as if he preferred to thus harass himself. It was the working of his own angry passion which held him, feeding itself, fostering, nursing itself, and goading him to fury.
Suddenly the sound of movement close at hand broke the spell which held him. He looked, and saw the bear less than twenty yards off.
He gripped his rifle, and his first thought was to slay. It was the hunter’s instinct which rose within him. But something held him, and his weapon did not move from his side; somewhere in his heart a harsh voice whispered to him, and he listened to words of evil counsel. Then a revulsion of feeling swept over him, and he shook himself as though to get rid of something which clung about him and oppressed him. But the moment passed, leaving him undecided, his brain maddened with bitter thoughts.
The dark form in the bush beyond moved. There came no sound, and the waiting man wondered if his eyes deceived him. No cat could have moved more silently upon its prey. Not a twig creaked. It moved on stealthily, inexorably, till it paused at the edge of the opening.