tore at the birch tree under which he had crept till the splinters flew
from its trunk. Just then I reached it, having seen all. By now the bear
had its teeth fixed in Steinar's shoulder, or, rather, in his leathern
garment, and was dragging him from under the tree. When it saw me it
reared itself up again, lifting Steinar and holding him to its breast
with one paw. I went mad at the sight, and charged it, driving my spear
deep into its throat. With its other paw it struck the weapon from my
hand, shivering the shaft. There it stood, towering over us like a white
pillar, and roared with pain and fury, Steinar still pressed against it,
Ragnar and I helpless.

"He's sped!" gasped Ragnar.

I thought for a flash of time, and--oh! well do I remember that moment:
the huge beast foaming at the jaws and Steinar held to its breast as a
little girl holds a doll; the still, snow-laden trees, on the top of one
of which sat a small bird spreading its tail in jerks; the red light
of evening, and about us the great silences of the sky above and of the
lonely forest beneath. It all comes back to me--I can see it now quite
clearly; yes, even the bird flitting to another twig, and there again
spreading its tail to some invisible mate. Then I made up my mind what
to do.

"Not yet!" I cried. "Keep it in play," and, drawing my short and heavy
sword, I plunged through the birch boughs to get behind the bear. Ragnar
understood. He threw his cap into the brute's face, and then, after it
had growled at him awhile, just as it dropped its great jaws to crunch
Steinar, he found a bough and thrust it between them.

By now I was behind the bear, and, smiting at its right leg below the