Adventures in the Far West

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“On lads!” cried Mark, “we must get that fellow for the sake of the meat and skin.”

As he spoke he replaced the copper cap and dashed forward in pursuit of the intruder. As we had no wish to go bear-hunting unarmed, we hurried back to obtain our rifles and some powder and bullets from Simon. By the time we were supplied, the rest of the party who had been aroused by our shouts, were on foot and preparing to accompany us. On returning to the

door, we could nowhere see Mark; but Simon taking the lead we followed him. The moon had got up, so that we managed to see our way with tolerable clearness, by a path leading down to a stream, with precipitous banks, rising in some places into cliffs of considerable height. We had gone some distance when we heard a shot fired.

“Mark has brought Master Bruin to bay,” cried Simon; “I wish he had waited until we had come up.”

I heard the sound of footsteps behind us, and looking round saw that our Indian allies had followed, as eager as we were to get the bear’s meat. Just then we saw Mark bending over the bear which he had shot; but what was our horror the next moment to observe another huge monster rush out from behind a rock and lifting itself on its haunches make a spring at him, before he could even turn round to defend himself. His death seemed certain. In attempting to shoot the bear, we should too probably kill him. No one therefore dared to fire. In vain he endeavoured to escape from the claws of the creature who held him in a fast embrace. His brother and Armitage, who were leading, dashed forward, the one drawing a long knife, the other armed with an axe which he had caught up as we left the hut. I held my gun ready, waiting to fire should I be able to do so without running the risk of shooting one of my friends.

It was a fearful moment. It seemed scarcely possible, even should we kill the bear, that poor Mark would escape destruction. Simon, springing close to the monster, dealt it a tremendous blow with his axe,

hoping to draw its attention on himself; while Armitage, with his uplifted knife, dashed forward, and as he did so plunged his weapon behind the bear’s shoulder. The monster turned round on feeling the wound, and I thought would have bitten Mark’s head. Simon again plied the brute with his axe. The huge jaws relaxed, the head sank down, Armitage had driven his knife home to the beast’s heart.

With shouts, indicative of their satisfaction, the Indians now hurried up and assisted us in dragging off the body from our fallen friend who was by this time nearly senseless. The bear’s claws had torn him fearfully about the breast and shoulders, besides having given him a tremendous hug, but had, we hoped, injured no vital part. He was unable, however, to speak or stand. We at once, therefore, formed a litter with poles speedily cut from the banks of the stream, on which we bore him back to the hut, leaving the Indians under the command of Pierre to cut up the bears and bring in their flesh and skins, an occupation to which they applied themselves with evident delight.