The bear, its fierce eyes glancing from side to side, was now within five or six feet of its intended prey. With a shrill cry of warning and defiance Melindy sprang forward, swinging her axe, and ordered the beast to “Git out!” She was greatly in hopes that the animal would yield to the authority of the human voice, and retire abashed.
At any other season, it is probable that the bear would have done just as she hoped it would. But now, it had the courage of a rampant spring appetite. Startled it was, and disturbed, at the girl’s sudden appearance and her shrill cry; and it half drew back, hesitating. But Melindy also hesitated; and the bear was quick to perceive her hesitation. For a few seconds he stood eyeing her, his head down and swinging from side to side. Then, seeming to conclude that she was not a formidable antagonist, he gave vent to a loud, grunting growl, and lurched forward upon the calf.
With a wild scream, half of fury, half of fear, Melindy also darted forward, trusting that the animal would not really face her onslaught. And the calf, terrified at the sudden outcry, staggered to its feet with a loud bleating.
The bear was just upon it, with great black paw 266 uplifted for the fatal stroke that would have broken its back, when he saw Melindy’s axe descending. With the speed of a skilled boxer he changed the direction of his stroke, and fended off the blow so cleverly that the axe almost flew from the girl’s grasp. The fine edge, however, caught a partial hold, and cleft the paw to the bone.
Furious with the pain, and his fighting blood now thoroughly aroused, the bear forgot the calf and sprang at his daring assailant. Light-footed as a cat, the girl leapt aside, just in time, darted over the fallen trunk, and dodged around the base of the rampike. She realized that she had undertaken too much, and her only hope now was that either she would be able to outrun the bear, or that the latter would turn his attentions again to the calf and forget about her.
The bear, however, had no intention of letting her escape his vengeance. For all his bulk, he was amazingly nimble and was at her heels again in a second. Though she might have outstripped him in the open, he would probably have caught her in the hampering thicket; but at this crucial moment there came a bellow and a crashing of branches close behind him, and he whirled about just in time to receive the raging charge of old “Spotty,” who had heard her youngster’s call.
The bear had no time to dodge or fend this onslaught, but only to brace himself. The cow’s horns, 267 unfortunately, were short and wide-spreading. She caught him full in the chest, with the force of a battering-ram, and would have hurled him backwards but that his mighty claws and forearms, at the same instant, secured a deadly clutch upon her shoulders. She bore him backward against the trunk indeed, but there he recovered himself; and when she strove to withdraw for another battering charge, she could not tear herself free. Foiled in these tactics, she lunged forward with all her strength, again and again, bellowing madly, and endeavouring to crush out her enemy’s breath against the tree. And the bear, grunting, growling, and whining, held her fast while he tore at her with his deadly claws.
Too much excited to think any longer of flight, Melindy stood upon the fallen trunk and breathlessly watched the battle. In a few moments she realized that old “Spotty” was getting the worst of it; and upon this her courage once more returned. Running down the great log as close as she dared, she swung up her axe, and paused for an opening. She was just about to strike, when a well-known voice arrested her, and she jumped back.
“Git out of the way, Child,” it commanded, piercing the turmoil. “Git out of the way an’ let me shoot!”
The crippled old woman, too, had heard the cry of her young. When that scream of Melindy’s 268 cleft the evening air, Mrs. Griffis had shot out of her chair as if she had never heard of rheumatism. She did not know anything hurt her. At the summons of this imperious need her old vigour all came back. Snatching up the big duck-gun from the corner, where it stood always loaded and ready, she went across the pasture and through the laurel patches at a pace almost worthy of Melindy herself. When she plunged through the bushes into the hollow, and saw the situation, her iron will steadied her nerves to meet the crisis.