o saying, he suddenly pointed a pistol straight at the advancing
monster and fired. A tremendous roar followed the report. Gibault
leaped up, exclaiming angrily, "Vat foolishness! a pistol! hah! ve must
run." He turned at once to do so.

"Stay!" cried the artist, who no longer trembled, though his countenance
was still ashy pale, "I have another pistol."

"Does you vish to _die_?" yelled the trapper, seizing his comrade by
the collar.

Whether it was the yell of the man, or the reiterated roar of the
advancing bear, or both combined, that had an effect on the artist, we
cannot tell, but certain it is that he sprang up and darted after
Gibault with astonishing rapidity. Being long-legged and uncommonly
supple he soon passed him; but, fast though they both ran, the bear ran
faster, and, having been badly cut up about the face by the slugs with
which the pistol had been charged, his spirit was roused to the utmost
pitch of ferocity.

Now, while this was going on in the bush, the other trappers were
quietly fastening the line of their canoe to a shrub that held it
floating in a pool of still water near the shore. No sooner did the
pistol-shot ring upon their ears than every man seized his gun, hastily
examined the priming, and scrambled up the bank, which at that spot was
very steep.

Having gained the top, they paused for an instant to gaze intently at
the bank of the river above them, in order to ascertain the exact spot
to which they ought to hurry.

"I see no smoke," said March Marston in a tone of deep anxiety.

"Gibault's gun didn't use for to bark in that sort o' voice," observed
Bounce.

"I do b'lieve that bar's got 'im," cried Big Waller, bounding forward.

He had not taken a second bound when the artist, flying at full speed
about three hundred yards up the river, burst upon the astonished vision
of the party. His sombrero had blown off, his long hair streamed
straight behind him, so did the scalp-locks on his coat, and so did his
long cloak which was fastened to his neck by a clasp, and which, in his
present panting and rushing condition, wellnigh strangled him.

Before the wonder-stricken trappers had time to remark on this singular
apparition, or to form any opinion in regard to it, poor Gibault came
tearing round the point like a maniac, with the bear close upon his
heels. This was enough. The backwoodsmen no longer showed any signs of
surprise or hesitancy. A grisly bear was a familiar ob