This diversion, as I believe, saved Percy’s life. It gave him time to reach a tree, up which he went like a demented squirrel.
Meanwhile I had come within fair range of the bear, and kneeling down I took careful aim and fired. That my bullet struck the beast was evident, for he roared with anger, and then, with an activity surprising in so unwieldy an animal, he sprang at Ulysses. Ulysses, however, knowing that in this case discretion was very much the better part of valour, nimbly got out of the way, upon which the bear turned short round and came charging at me.
My! How I did run! Nobody knows his own capabilities as a foot-racer until he has undergone the experience of running away from a wrathful bear, whose firm-set determination it is to tear him to pieces if he can catch him.
Though Ulysses, the moment the bear turned his back, seized him again by the leg, the big beast took no notice of him. Strong as a bull, he dragged the dog after him with ease, and even with that incumbrance hampering his movements he gained upon me at every stride. Fortunately, having a good start, I succeeded in reaching the trees while the pursuer was yet some distance behind; seeing which, the bear gave up the chase and stopped again to slap at Ulysses.
I had dropped my rifle, as had Percy, also, I found; so, there we were, on opposite sides of the little valley, each perched in a tree, with a vengeful bear keeping strict watch and ward over us. I wondered how long we should have to stay there; and I wondered also whether Jack would presently come to our rescue. From the positions of the two trees we occupied neither of us could see up the valley, and for the same reason Jack would not be able to see us. He might, however, observe Ulysses and the bear out in the open; though not unless he came pretty soon, for the clouds were heavy that evening, and it was already growing dark.
Two or three times both Percy and I made attempts to recover our rifles, but our watchful antagonist would not permit it, each time driving us back in haste to our places of refuge. The time wore on, and the darkness rapidly increased, but at length, when it had become so dark that I could no longer distinguish with certainty between the dog and the bear, I saw through the branches of the trees a sudden flash of fire, followed by the report of a rifle. Next I heard the joyful barking of Ulysses, and directly afterwards the sound of Jack’s voice calling to Percy. Down I scrambled from my tree, and running to the spot whence the voice came, I found Jack standing over the body of the bear, while Percy had just arrived from the opposite direction.
“Hallo, Tom!” exclaimed our captain in surprise. “You here too?”
“Yes,” said I, remembering for the first time that I was supposed to be acting sentry. “I was obliged to come. I quite forgot, I confess, that I was on guard, but I have no doubt I should have come just the same if I had remembered. I had no time to think, as it happened, but all the thinking in the world would have made no difference; I should have come just the same.”
I then related to Jack the circumstances of the case, upon which, to my relief, he remarked:
“I see. Yes, of course. You were quite right. You couldn’t do anything else. I should certainly have done the same, even if I had known that Squeaky was likely to be down on us in the next five minutes. Oh, yes; you were perfectly right. I think, though, you had better find your rifle and go back now. Percy and I will follow as soon as we have cut out one of the bear’s hams.”