But the bear was almost as
quick, and ran directly into the brushwood, to face him on the opposite
side.
By this time John Barrow had the rifle reloaded, and now he skirted the
brushwood, followed by Dick. Crack! went the rifle again, just as bruin
was about to pounce upon Tom. But the bullet merely clipped the hair on
the bear's back, and in a twinkle the beast was on Tom and had the lad
down.
With his heart in his throat, Dick made a leap with the shotgun. Bang!
went the piece, when he was not over three yards from the bear. The
charge entered the beast's ear, and with a snort he rolled over and over
in the snow, sending it flying in every direction.
Freed of the bear, Tom lost no time in scrambling to his feet. Soon the
struggles of the beast ceased, and they knew he was either dying or
dead. To make sure, John Barrow stepped in, hunting knife in hand, and
plunged the blade into his throat. Then the other bear was served in the
same fashion.
The fight had been of short duration, yet the peril had been extreme,
and after it was over poor Tom found he could scarcely stand.
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