"Hi, hi! Christopher!"
"Great Cæsar!"
"My eye!"
Bob had reached the bank, and the grizzly was again almost within reach. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that a turn to either the right or left might be disastrous. Then, without hesitation, he threw aside his gun and plunged into the stream.
The bear, as if puzzled by this strange proceeding, stood for a moment gazing after the swimmer. But he did not mean to be cheated in such a fashion as that. With another hoarse growl, his ponderous body sent the water splashing.
Two shots rang out almost simultaneously.
"You missed him," called out Havens, his eyes shining with excitement. "Come ahead—we've got him!"
At full speed, he led the way toward the fallen tree. But the remnants of the grizzly's feast had made the trunk very slippery. Jim Havens' right foot began to slide—he gave an exclamation—then the left gave way.
The rifle dropped from his grasp; he flung his arms wildly over his head, and, with a lusty yell of dismay, plunged forward and landed in the water with a tremendous splash.
When, coughing and spluttering, he arose to the surface, it was about ten feet further down-stream.