a deep, cavernous growl at every step or two, while his comparatively
small black eyes seemed to glow with a savage light, altogether foreign
to the species.

All this was taken in at the first glance of the boys, who, petrified
for one moment, realized in the next their fearful peril.

"There's no time to shoot!" exclaimed Jack; "we must run!"

"But he can run faster than we!" replied Fred, who stood his ground long
enough to bring his Winchester to his shoulder and let fly straight at
the front of the beast. That he struck the bear was certain, but it
served only to add to his towering rage, and he plunged forward without
halt.

Jack had made no attempt to fire, but was running at headlong speed.
Fred was eager to thrust another cartridge into the chamber of his
Winchester from the magazine, but to do so would detain him until old
Ephraim was upon him, and even then it was not likely the bullet would
stay or affect his attack.

Accordingly, instead of firing a second shot he whirled about and dashed
after Jack, who was thus placed about a rod in advance. Although the
ground was not favorable for running, it may be safely said that neither
Jack Dudley nor Fred Greenwood ever gave such an exhibition of speed.
They held fast to their rifles, for it looked as if the weapons were to
be their final reliance.

Fred glanced over his shoulder to learn how he was making out in the
race. With an awful sinking he saw that the grizzly was gaining fast
upon him. Still he dared not pause long enough to fire, but redoubled
his energies, only to catch his foot in a running vine and plunge
forward on his face.

CHAPTER XII.

THE TUG OF WAR.

Jack Dudley, being some paces in advance of Fred Greenwood, and alarmed
for him because of his greater peril, had slightly slackened his speed,
for he was not the one to seek safety at the expense of his comrade. The
instant he saw him fall he stopped short, and, wheeling about, fired at
the grizzly, and pumping a second cartridge into the chamber of his
Winchester, let fly again, both shots striking the beast, who was so
close that a miss was impossible.

It need not be said that Fred, having pitched forward on his hands and
knees, did not remain thus. No hunter, even if a youth, gives up so long
as there is a fighting chance for life. He instantly leaped to his feet,
and a couple of bounds placed him beyond reach, for the moment, of his
terrible enemy.

The bear seemed to