pen space. It seemed
to be taken as much by surprise as we were, and I have no doubt would
have turned and fled if it had not been so near. It rose on its hind
legs, however, to attack us, and then I perceived that it was not the
small bear which Lumley and I had been tracking.

The blood rushed to my head when I remembered that the monster stood
between me and the bank on which my gun was lying! Then the feeling
that the helpless Indian girl was at its mercy filled me with feelings
which are indescribable. Thought is swifter than the lightning-flash.
Much more than I have written flashed through my brain during those two
or three seconds, but one overmastering idea filled me--I would save
_her_, or perish!

I glanced sharply round. To my surprise she had fled! So much the
better. I could at least keep the creature engaged till she had got
well away.

Drawing the small hatchet which like all Nor'westers I carried in my
belt, I rushed at the bear and made a cut at its head with all the force
that lay in my arm. Where the blow fell I know not, but apparently it
was ineffective, for, with a quick vicious turn of its paw, the bear
struck my weapon from my hand with such violence that it flew over the
tree-tops as if shot from a catapult, and I stood unarmed--helpless--at
the creature's mercy!

The terrible feeling that death was so near almost unnerved me, but the
thought of Waboose caused me to utter a roar of mingled rage and despair
as I doubled my fist and launched it full against the monster's nose!

At that moment a loud report at my ear deafened and almost stunned me.
Next instant the bear lay dead at my feet. I looked round and beheld
Waboose standing close to me with my gun in her hands!

"Noble heroine!" I exclaimed, but as I exclaimed it in English she did
not understand. She had, indeed, a very slight smattering of that
language--of which more hereafter--but "Noble heroine" was not at that
time in her vocabulary!

Instead of trembling or looking pale, as I might have expected to see
her, Waboose looked at me in the most composed manner, and with
something on her lip that seemed to me like a smile of amusement. In
some confusion, I thanked her for having saved my life.

She did not object to the thanks, but replied by asking me if it was the
usual practice of white men to attack bears with their fists.

I could not help laughing at this.

"No, Waboose," I replied, as I recharged my gun, "i