ear lest that might precipitate
an attack restrained him. Benjy, however, was quick-witted. He saw
that the leap was probably too much even for a Polar bear, and that the
nature of the ground would necessitate a detour before it could get at
the artist. These and other thoughts passed through his brain like the
lightning flash, and he was on the point of turning to run back and give
the alarm to Leo, when a rattling of stones occurred behind him--just
beyond the point of rocks round which he had turned. In the tension of
his excited nerves he felt as if he had suddenly become red hot. Could
this be another bear? If so, what was he to do, whither to fly? A
moment more would settle the question, for the rattle of stones
continued as the steps advanced. The boy felt the hair rising on his
head. Round came the unknown monster in the form of--a man!

"Ah, Benjy, I--"

But the appearance of Benjy's countenance caused Leo to stop abruptly,
both in walk and talk. He had found out his mistake about sending the
boy round the hillock, and, turning back, had followed him.

"Ah! look there," said Benjy, pointing at the _tableau vivant_ on the
hill-top.

Leo's ready rifle leaped from his shoulder to his left palm, and a grim
smile played on his lips, for long service in a volunteer corps had made
him a good judge of distance as well as a sure and deadly shot.

"Stand back, Benjy, behind this boulder," he whispered. "I'll lean on
it to make more certain."

He was deliberately arranging the rifle while speaking, but never for
one instant took his eye off the bear, which still stood motionless,
with one paw raised, as if petrified with amazement at what it saw. As
for Alf, he went on intently with his work, lifting and lowering his
eyes continuously, putting in bold dashes here, or tender touches there;
holding out the book occasionally at arm's length to regard his work,
with head first on one side, then on the other, and, in short, going
through all those graceful and familiar little evolutions of artistic
procedure which arouse one's home feelings so powerfully everywhere--
even in the Arctic regions! Little did the artist know who was his
uninvited pupil on that sunny summer night!

With one knee resting on a rock, and his rifle on the boulder, Leo took
a steady, somewhat lengthened aim, and fired. The result was
stupendous! Not only did the shot reverberate with crashing echoes
among surrounding cliffs and bo