"It's a bear!" gasped Horace.
At the sight of the three boys the big head had paused in surprise.
Then its lips began to curl, disclosing a wicked looking set of
teeth, and finally it broke into a savage snarl, at the same time
rising in the air.
"He's getting to his hind legs. That means fight!" breathed
Horace. "Come on, let's run!"
"But he'd overtake us and beat us down with his paws," returned
Larry. "We've got to kill him."
Less time did the action consume than is required to describe it,
and the boys were standing terror stricken when the bear charged
upon them, making vicious lunges at them with his huge paws.
Roused from his fright by the imminence of his peril, Tom raised
his rifle, only to have it knocked from his hands by a swing of one
of the bear's paws.
[Illustration: The rifle was knocked from his hand.]
"Drop down! drop down so I can shoot!" yelled Larry as he saw the
desperate situation in which his brother was placed.
Instantly Tom obeyed, throwing himself to one side as he fell.
But as the younger of the brothers dropped the bear, as though
singling him out for his particular antagonist, also dropped to all
fours, and Larry's shot went over him.
Horace, however, shot lower, and a terrible roar told them that the
bullet had struck home.
In the fury of his pain the bear seemed to think that the boy lying
flat on the rocks was the cause of his suffering, and, with mouth
distended, charged upon him.
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