"But it takes more'n one lucky shot to kill a full grown brown
b'ar," Jerry said, shaking his head. "He turned like a flash, and
with a horrid roar, made at her, dropping the pig. His huge carcass
smashing against the pen fence, snapped a white-oak post right off at
the ground, and felled two lengths of the fence.

"But Miss Sally didn't give up. She backed away, but she kept
shootin' until she had put three more balls into his big carcass. He
sprung through the broke-down fence to get at her; but jest as he got
outside, the blood spouted out of his mouth, and he fell down,
coughing and dying. 'Twas all over in ten seconds, then."

"My goodness!" gasped Jennie Stone. "How dreadful."

"But wasn't she a brave girl?" cried Helen.

"Not a bit braver than Ruthie," said her twin, stoutly.

"I could almost forgive you for spoiling our taffy after that,
Master Tom," declared Helen. "Is that all the story, Mr. Todd?" she
added, as the long guide rose up to go.

"Pretty near all, I reckon, Missy," he returned. "Nobody didn't
never say Sally Bennett was afraid, after she'd saved Bill's meat for
him. And that ol' b'ar pelt was a coverin' on her bed till she was
married, I reckon. But things like that don't happen around here
now-a-days. B'ars ain't so common--and mebbe gals ain't so brave,"
and he went away, chuckling.