again and
make for the nearest tree. In doing so, he tripped over a fallen
branch, and fell with stunning violence to the ground. He rose,
however, instantly, and grasping the lower limb of a small oak, drew
himself with some difficulty up among the branches.

The bear came thundering on, and reached the tree a few seconds later.
It made several abortive efforts to ascend, and then, sitting down at
the foot, it looked up, grinning and growling horribly in disappointed
rage.

The captain had dropped the blunderbuss in his fall, and now, with deep
regret, and not a little anxiety, found himself unarmed and a prisoner.
True, his long knife was still in its place, but he was too well aware
of the strength and ferocity of the grizzly-bear--from hearsay, and now
from ocular demonstration--to entertain the idea of acting on the
offensive with such a weapon.

The sun sank behind the mountain-peaks, and the shades of night began to
fall upon the landscape, and still did Captain Bunting and the bear
sit--the one at the top, and the other at the foot of the oak-tree--
looking at each other. As darkness came on, the form of the bear became
indistinct and shadowy; and the captain's eyes waxed heavy, from
constant staring and fatigue, so that at length bruin seemed, to the
alarmed fancy of the tree'd mariner, to be twice the size of an
elephant. At last the darkness became so deep that its form mingled
with the shadows on the ground, and for some time the uncertainty as to
its actual presence kept the prisoner wakeful; but soon his eyes began
to close, despite his utmost efforts to keep them open; and for two
hours he endured an agonising struggle with sleep, compared to which his
previous struggle with Black Jim was mere child's-play. He tried every
possible position among the branches, in the hope of finding one in
which he might indulge in sleep without the risk of falling, but no such
position was to be found; the limbs of the tree were too small and too
far apart.

At last, however, he did find a spot to lie down on, and, with a sigh of
relief, lay back to indulge in repose. Alas! the spot was a myth--he
merely dreamed it; the next moment he dropt, like a huge over-ripe pear,
to the ground. Fortunately a bush broke the violence of his fall, and,
springing up with a cry of consternation, he rushed towards the tree,
expecting each instant to feel the terrible hug of his ursine enemy.
The very marrow in his back-bone se