ard a dry twig snap in the dense
growth beside the brook. It was a moment of horror for the lad and he
instantly crouched in the shadow of the bushes and cocked his rifle.
The noise continued, a shuffling sound, and then his straining ears
detected the snuffing of some animal. One may imagine his relief.

The animal soon emerged from the bushes, a black, shaggy bulk with
muzzle uplifted, following the scent of the meat which Rodney
carried.

Now, being followed by a hungry bear under such conditions would not
be agreeable to most people, but the boy's courage was good and his
relief at finding his pursuer not an Indian was so great that he felt
like laughing; instead he hastened his pace.

The chase continued, mile after mile, though to the tired lad
stumbling over the slippery stones it seemed league upon league.
Occasionally he stepped in a hole to his waist, but he was too excited
to heed the drenching or the fatigue.

An hour passed, and bruin yet followed. "Reckon he's hungry as I am,"
Rodney remarked to himself. Then came the thought, why not divide with
the bear? Suiting action to word the lad quickly cut his meat in two
pieces, flinging one behind. With a growl the brute savagely seized it
and the boy hurried on. The respite was brief, however, for not many
minutes passed before he heard his pursuer, appetite whetted by what
he had eaten, following the trail.

Rodney was now more exasperated than frightened. The dangers through
which he had passed seemed to embolden him, though he knew his plight
would indeed be unpleasant should he attempt to shoot bruin and by
some cause miss fire. The muskets sold to the Indians were usually of
the cheapest quality, and the one he carried certainly appeared to be
of that variety. He looked behind. The bear was gaining. Seeing this,
the lad resolved on extreme measures. First, he would try the effect
of a rock and he picked one up, about as large as his two fists.

Rodney had thrown many stones in his life and most of them had been
well aimed. This was no exception and landed fairly on bruin's snout.
The animal stood on the bank not twenty feet distant and he turned a
somersault, in his pain and rage, landing in the water with a loud
splash.

Young Allison did not stop to laugh, as he felt like doing, but put as
much distance between himself and his pursuer as possible. After a
time, hearing nothing of bruin, he concluded the old fellow had given
up the chase and lay