“But the pot was hot, and the first mouthful of the savory mess made him yell with rage and pain. At this point the trumpets and clarions grew shrill in cook’s dreaming ears.
“Then an angry sweep of the great paw had dashed pot and kettle off the stove in a thunder of crashing iron and clattering tins. This was the point at which cook’s dream had attained overwhelming reality.
“What met his round-eyed gaze, as he sat up in his blankets, was an angry bear, dancing about in a confusion of steam and smoke and beans and kettles, making ineffectual snatches at a lump of scalding pork upon the floor.
“After a moment of suspense, cook rose softly and crept to the other end of the bunks, where a gun was kept. To his disgust the weapon was unloaded. But the click of the lock had caught the bear’s attention. Glancing up at the bunk above him, the brute’s eye detected the shrinking cook, and straightway he overflowed with wrath. Here, evidently, was the author of his discomfort.
“With smarting jaws and vengeful paws he made a dash for the bunk. Its edge was nearly seven feet from the floor, so Bruin had to do some clambering. As his head appeared over the edge, and his great paws took firm hold upon the clapboard rim of the bunk, cook, now grown desperate, struck at him wildly with the heavy butt of the gun. But Bruin is always a skilful boxer. With an upward stroke he warded off the blow, and sent the weapon spinning across the camp. At the same time, however, his weight proved too much for the frail clapboard to which he was holding, and back he fell on the floor with a shock like an earthquake.
“This repulse—which, of course, he credited to the cook—only filled him with tenfold greater fury, and at once he sprang back to the assault; but the delay, however brief, had given poor cook time to grasp an idea, which he proceeded to act upon with eagerness. He saw that the hole in the roof through which the stovepipe protruded was large enough to give his body passage. Snatching at a light rafter above his head, he swung himself out of the bunk, and kicked the stovepipe from its place. The sections fell with loud clatter upon the stove and the bear, for a moment disconcerting Bruin’s plans. From the rafter it was an easy reach to the opening in the roof, and as Bruin gained the empty bunk and stretched his paw eagerly up toward his intended victim on the rafter, the intended victim slipped with the greatest promptitude through the hole.
“At this point the cook drew a long breath, and persuaded his heart to go down out of his throat, where it had been since he waked, and resume its proper functions.
“His first thought was to drop from the roof and run for help, but fortunately he changed his mind. The bear was no fool. No sooner had the cook got safely out upon the roof than Bruin rushed forth from the camp-door, expecting to catch him as he came down.
“Had cook acted upon his first impulse, he would have been overtaken before he had gone a hundred yards, and would have perished hideously in the snow. As it was, however,—evidently to Bruin’s deep chagrin,—he stuck close to the chimney-hole, like a prairie-dog sitting by his burrow, ready at a moment’s notice to plunge within, while the bear stalked deliberately twice around the camp, eying him, and evidently laying plans, as it were, for his capture.
“At last the bear appeared to make up his mind. At one corner of the shanty, piled up nearly to the eaves, was a store of firewood which ‘cookee’ had gathered in. Upon this pile Bruin mounted, and then made a dash up the creaking roof.