set off at right angles to their former course, hoping to avert
a charge. They had taken a dozen steps, perhaps, when the
thicket moved to the advance of the thing within it, the leafy
branches parted, and the hideous head of a gigantic bear emerged.

"Pick your trees," whispered Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The men looked about them. The bear took a couple of steps
forward, still growling menacingly. He was exposed to the
shoulders now. Tippet took one look at the monster and bolted
for the nearest tree; and then the bear charged. He charged
straight for Tippet. The other men scattered for the various
trees they had selected--all except Bradley. He stood watching
Tippet and the bear. The man had a good start and the tree was
not far away; but the speed of the enormous creature behind him
was something to marvel at, yet Tippet was in a fair way to make
his sanctuary when his foot caught in a tangle of roots and down
he went, his rifle flying from his hand and falling several
yards away. Instantly Bradley's piece was at his shoulder, there
was a sharp report answered by a roar of mingled rage and pain
from the carnivore. Tippet attempted to scramble to his feet.

"Lie still!" shouted Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The bear halted in its tracks, wheeled toward Bradley and then
back again toward Tippet. Again the former's rifle spit angrily,
and the bear turned again in his direction. Bradley shouted
loudly. "Come on, you behemoth of Holy Writ!" he cried. "Come on,
you duffer! Can't waste ammunition." And as he saw the bear
apparently upon the verge of deciding to charge him, he