e bark of the log, and down she came with
a crash that could have been heard at twice his distance from us, even
if the shock had not knocked a "Wooff!" out of her as she fell. The man
instantly stood up and turned round, and, of course, found himself
staring straight into our faces.

He did not hesitate a moment, but dropped his axe and ran. I think he
ran as fast as he could, but what Cinnamon said was true: he went, of
course, on his hind-legs, and did not travel fast. It was downhill, and
running on your hind-legs for any distance downhill is an awkward
performance at best.

We, of course, followed our impulse, and went after him. We did not want
him in the least. We would not have known what to do with him if we had
him. But you know how impossible it is to resist chasing anything that
runs away from you. We could easily have caught him had we wished to,
but why should we? Besides, he might still have another thunder-stick
concealed about him. So we just ran fast enough to keep him running. And
as we ran, crashing through the bushes, galloping down hill, with his
head rising and falling as he leaped along ahead of us, the absurdity of
it got hold of me, and I yelped with excitement and delight. To be
chasing man, of all things living--man--like this! And I could hear my
father "wooffing" to himself at each gallop with amusement and
satisfaction.

Very soon, however, we smelled more men. Then we slowed down, and
presently there came in sight what we knew must be one of the
chopped-tree houses. So we stood and watched, while the man, still
running as if we were at his very heels, tore up to the house, and out
from behind it came three or four others. We could see them brandishing
their arms and talking very excitedly. Then two of them plunged into the
house, and came out with--yes, there could be no doubt of it; these were
the real things--the dreaded thunder-sticks themselves.

Then we knew that it was our turn to run; and we ran.

Back up the hill we went, much faster than we had come down; for we were
running for our own lives now, and bears like running uphill best. On
and on we went, as fast as we could go. We had no idea at how long a
distance man could hit us with the thunder-sticks, but we preferred to
be on the safe side, and it must have been at least two hours before we
stopped for a moment to take breath. And when a bear is in a hurry, two
hours, even for a cub, mean more than twenty miles.