f a
bear. The Duke of Wellington's nephew was up a tree like a shot; I stood
quietly on the ground, as cool as I am at this moment, loaded my gun,
and climbed up the tree. There was only one bough.

"'Bon,' said the Duke of Wellington's nephew, 'you'd better sit in
front.'

"'All right,' said I; 'but keep your gun ready. There are more coming.'
He'd got his face buried in my back.

"'How many are there?' said he.

"'Four,' said I.

"'How many are there now?' said he.

"'Eight,' said I.

"'How many are there now?' said he.

"'Ten,' said I.

"'Ten! ten!' said he; and down goes his gun.

"'Wallie,' I said, 'what have you done? We're dead men now.'

"'Bon, my old fellow,' said he, 'I couldn't help it; my hands trembled
so!'

"'Wall,' I said, turning round and seizing his hand, 'Wallie, my dear
lad, good-bye. I'm not afraid to die. My legs are long--they hang
down--the first bear that comes and I don't hit him, off goes my foot.
When he takes it I shall give you my gun and go. You may yet be saved;
but tell, oh, tell Mary Ann that I thought of her, that I prayed for
her.'

"'Good-bye, old fellow,' said he.

"'God bless you,' said I.

"By this time the bears were sitting in a circle all around the tree.
Yes," said Bonaparte impressively, fixing his eyes on the German, "a
regular, exact, circle. The marks of their tails were left in the snow,
and I measured it afterward; a drawing-master couldn't have done it
better. It was that saved me. If they'd rushed on me at once, poor old
Bon would never have been here to tell this story. But they came on,
sir, systematically, one by one. All the rest sat on their tails and
waited. The first fellow came up, and I shot him; the second fellow--I
shot him; the third--I shot him. At last the tenth came; he was the
biggest of all--the leader, you may say.

"'Wall,' I said, 'give me your hand. My fingers are stiff with the cold;
there is only one bullet left. I shall miss him. While he is eating me
you get down and take your gun; and live, dear friend, live to remember
the man who gave his life for you!' By that time the bear was at me. I
felt his paw on my trousers.

"'Oh, Bonnie! Bonnie!' said the Duke of Wellington's nephew. But I just
took my gun and put the muzzle to the bear's ear--over he fell--dead!"

Bonaparte Blenkins waited to observe what effect his story had made.
Then he took out a dirty white handkerchief and stroked his forehead,
and more especially h