Suddenly the canoe shot out across the river, and on the other
shore ran into the mouth of a little stream at the foot of a big
sand-hill.
Job hurried off with the rifle, and George and I followed as I was
able. We had to cross a broad belt of tangled willows, and to know
what that means, one must do it; but the prospect of at least
getting on the edge of a bear chase is great inducement when once
you become a little excited, and I scrambled through. The hill was
steep and thickly strewn with windfalls about which the new growth
had sprung up. Its top was like the thin edge of a wedge, and the
farther side dropped, a steep sand-bank, to the stream which flowed
at its foot. When we were hardly more than half-way up, there was
the sound of a shot and a funny, little shrill cry from Job. Bruin
had been climbing the sand-bank, and was nearly at the top when Job
fired. The bullet evidently struck him for, doubling up, his head
between his legs, he rolled over and over to the foot of the bank.
When I reached the top of the hill he was on his legs again and
running down along the edge of the stream. There had been only one
cartridge in the rifle, and Job rushed down the hill to the canoe
for more.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57