a matter of fact the marksman's success depends
more on his luck than his skill. Were it not for the Woods-Indian's
extraordinary powers of still-hunting so that he can generally approach
very near to his game, his success would be small indeed.

With the shock of a dozen little bullets the bear went down, snarling
and biting and scattering the sand, but was immediately afoot again. A
black bear is not a particularly dangerous beast in ordinary
circumstances--but occasionally he contributes quite a surprise to the
experience of those who encounter him. This bear was badly wounded and
cruelly frightened. His keen sense of smell informed him that the bushes
contained enemies--how many he did not know, but they were concealed,
unknown, and therefore dreadful. In front of him was something definite.
Before the astonished Indians could back water, he had dashed into the
shallows, and planted his paws on the bow of old Haukemah's canoe.

A simultaneous cry of alarm burst from the other Indians. Some began
frantically to recharge their muzzle-loading trade-guns; others dashed
toward the spot as rapidly as paddle or moccasin could bring them.
Haukemah himself roused valiantly to the defence, but was promptly upset
and pounced upon by the enraged animal. A smother of spray enveloped the
scene. Dick Herron rose suddenly to his feet and shot. The bear
collapsed into the muddied water, his head doubled under, a thin stream
of arterial blood stringing away down the current. Haukemah and his
steersman rose dripping. A short pause of silence ensued.

"Well, you are a wonder!" ejaculated Sam Bolton at last. "How in thunder
did you do that? I couldn't make nothing out of _that_ tangle--at least
nothing clear enough to shoot at!"

"Luck," replied Dick, briefly. "I took a snap shot, and happened to make
it."

"You ran mighty big chances of winning old Haukemah," objected Sam.

"Sure! But I didn't," answered Dick, conclusively.

The Indians gathered to examine in respectful admiration. Dick's bullet
had passed from ear to ear. To them it was wonderful shooting, as indeed
it would have been had it indicated anything but the most reckless luck.
Haukemah was somewhat disgusted at the wetting of his finery, but the
bear is a sacred animal, and even ceremonial dress and an explanation of
the motives that demanded his death might not be sufficient to appease
his divinity. The women's squadron appeared about the bend, and added
their crie