e rifle, dropping my left elbow well over my
knee and steadying the cold barrel against the tree.

Sixty yards and a two-foot target, what need for such precautions? one
hears the marksmen say, and when stalking sand-hill cranes in warm
sunlight now I can agree with them. But I was nearly famished, stiff with
cramp and cold, and shooting then for bare existence. With a
half-articulate prayer I increased the pressure on the trigger as the
fore-bead trembled--it would tremble--across the fur. The bear was clearly
suspicious. He would be off the next moment, the trigger was yielding, and
with a sudden stiffening of every muscle I added the final pressure as the
notch in the rear-sight and the center of the body came for a moment in
line. I heard no explosion--one rarely does when watching the result
intently--but there was a red flash from the tilting muzzle, and the
heel-plate jarred my shoulder. Then I growled with satisfaction as almost
simultaneously I heard a sound there was no mistaking, the crunch of a
forty-four bullet smashing through flesh and bone. The bear was down,
straggling among the weed, and plunging straight through the muskeg I
fell upon it, and, after burning another cartridge with the muzzle against
the flesh, I drove the long knife in to the hilt.

Next I rose stiffly upright, ensanguined, with wild gasps of thankfulness,
and sent a hoarse cry ringing across the woods, after which I sat down on
the fur and stabbed the lifeless brute twice again, for I was filled with
a childish fear that even now it might escape me. This was needless, and
even barbarous, but to one in my position it was natural.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BRINK OF ETERNITY

A shout came down from the range side, and when the others joined me even
Harry surveyed the bear with wolfish eyes, while it did not take long to
perform what the French-Canadians call the _eventrer_, and, smeared red
all over, we bore the dismembered carcass into camp. We feasted like wild
beasts--we were frankly animal then--and it was not until hunger was
satisfied that we remembered the empty place. Then we drew closer
together, and, though it was mere fancy, the gloom of the forest seemed to
thicken round the circle of fading firelight, as Harry said:

"He was the life of the party at either work or feast. Ralph, we shall
miss him sorely; a sound sleep to him!"

No one spoke again, and, drawing the two remaining blankets across the
three, we sank into