Wheeling about, he saw a huge bear grasping a dog by the middle of the back with his teeth and attempting to carry him away. Since the dog was chained to a sled and six other dogs were also chained to that sled, it was necessary for him to drag the sled and six very reluctant dogs after him.
“Be funny if it wasn’t serious,” said Jennings grimly as he took steady aim at the beast’s head. Three times his automatic rifle barked. The bear crumpled up in a heap.
There was, however, not a second to be wasted. As he turned he found himself staring at a towering white apparition. This apparition, which stood some three feet above his head, had red gleaming eyes and a lolling tongue. The second bear had escaped from the tent. Angered by his experience and the death of his companion, he was ready for battle with these strange invaders of his domain.
“Want satisfaction, do you?” said Jennings grimly. “Well! There! Take it!”
With a movement that for speed and accuracy could not be beaten, he thrust the muzzle of his rifle at the base of the beast’s skull and fired.
Thus a second bear had just been bagged by Jennings when Joe came creeping out of his sleeping-bag. For a few seconds he sat rubbing his shins. Then suddenly his face lightened with a smile as he sang out:
“We killed the bear! Betsy and I killed the bear.”
“Well, anyway,” smiled Jennings, “you’re going to have one of your dearest wishes granted. Your old dorgs, Ginger, Pete, Major and Bones, won’t have to be fed to the starvin’ explorers. Here’s a day’s rations for a regiment of soldiers. I bet that big bear weighs a ton and a half.”
“Whoop-ee!” cried Joe springing to his feet and rushing over to embrace his astonished friend, Ginger. “That’s sure good news to us!”
“Sixteen inches between the ears,” pronounced Jennings after measuring with his hands the skull of the fallen Goliath of the North. “Some bear!”