,
squirrel-skin cap, long leggings of deerhide, and oiled cowhide
moccasins. He walked rapidly with a long, slouching stride that was
almost a lope, his toes pointing straight ahead like an Indian's.

When, suddenly, the bear lurched out into his trail and confronted
him, the woodsman was in no way disturbed. The bear paused, swaying in
surly fashion, about ten paces in front of him, completely blocking
the trail. But the woodsman kept right on. The only attention he paid
to the big, black stranger was to shout at him authoritatively--"Git
out the way, thar!"

To his unbounded astonishment, however, the beast, instead of getting
out of the way, ran at him with a snarling growl. The woodsman's calm
blue eyes flamed with anger; but the life of the woods teaches one to
think quickly, or rather, to act in advance of one's thoughts. He knew
that with no weapon but his knife he was no match for such a foe, so,
leaping aside as lightly as a panther, he darted around a tree,
regained the trail beyond his assailant, and ran on at his best speed
toward the river. He made sure that the bear had acted under a mere
spasm of ill-temper, and would not take the trouble to follow far.

When, once in a long time, a hunter or trapper gets the worst of it in
his contest with the wild kindreds, in the majority of cases it is
because he had fancied he knew all about bears. The bear is strong in
individuality and delights to set at nought the traditions of his
kind. So it happens that every now and then a woodsman pays with his
life for failing to recognize that the bear won't always play by rule.

To the trapper's disgusted amazement, this particular bear followed
him so vindictively that before he realized the full extent of his
peril he was almost overtaken. He saw that he must deliver up his
precious pack, the burden of which was effectively handicapping him in
the race for life. When the bear was almost upon him, he flung the
bundle away, with angry violence, expecting that it would at once
divert the pursuer's attention.

In about ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, perhaps, it would have
done so, for among other things it contained bacon and sugar, dainties
altogether delectable to a bear's palate. But as luck would have it,
the bundle so bitterly hurled struck the beast full on the snout,
making him grunt with pain and fresh fury. From that moment he was a
veritable demon of vengeance. Well enough he knew it was not the
bundle,