e had no weapon with
which to defend himself.

For at least a quarter of an hour the bears and the lad gazed at
each other through the red light of the fire. The bears were
gradually moving forward, and every time the lad laid a stick of
wood on the blaze they seemed to understand more fully that his
defense was weakening.

George thought he had never seen wood burn away so fast. The blaze
seemed to melt it as boiling water melts ice.

Already the blaze was dropping lower, and the pile of wood was
almost gone. The bears sniffed at the blood stains where the boy
had lain on the floor, and turned fierce eyes on the figure by the
fire.

George estimated that his wood might last ten minutes longer. Then
there would be a rush, a crunching of bones and all would be over.

A rifle shot sounded from the outside, and one of the bears dropped
to the rocky floor, struggled spasmodically for a moment, and then
straightened out and lay still. The next instant another shot,
equally accurate, came and the second bear was dead in a moment.

The boy waited eagerly for the appearance of the man who had done
the shooting. He had no idea who the man might be, and was not
quite certain that the fellow had not taken from him one danger
only to place him in another. Still, he looked eagerly forward to
his appearance.

When the man appeared, a smoking double-barreled rifle in his hand,
George saw a tall, ungainly figure with long legs, a long, slim
body, very high cheek bones, and rather stern and uncompromising
blue eyes.

The newcomer was dressed in the leather jacket usually worn by
trappers in that district, leather leggins, moccasins, and fur cap.
A belt of red leather, probably colored and tanned by some Indian
process, was drawn tightly about his waist. There were gold rings
in his ears which swung an inch down on his brown cheeks.

"Hello, sonny!" the man said, advancing into the cavern, standing
the butt of his rifle on the rock, and leaning on the barrel.

"Say," the boy almost shouted, springing forward and extending his
hand, "that's about the best shooting I've seen in a year!"

"The place to hit a bear," the new-comer replied, "is in the neck,
right about where the spinal cord starts to crawl under the skull."

"It's a good thing you came along just as you did," George stated.
"I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am, and so you'll have to
take that for granted. You saved my life!"

"I'm Antoine," t