The bear fought with the most savage
courage, champing its bloody jaws, roaring with rage, and looking the
very incarnation of evil fury. For some minutes it made no effort to
flee, either charging or standing at bay. Then it began to move slowly
towards a patch of ash and wild plums in the head of a coulie, some
distance off. Its pursuer rode after it, and when close enough would
push by it and fire, while the bear would spin quickly round and charge
as fiercely as ever, though evidently beginning to grow weak. At last,
when still a couple of hundred yards from cover the man found he had
used up all his cartridges, and then merely followed at a safe distance.
The bear no longer paid heed to him, but walked slowly forwards, swaying
its great head from side to side, while the blood streamed from between
its half-opened jaws. On reaching the cover he could tell by the waving
of the bushes that it walked to the middle and then halted. A few
minutes afterwards some of the other cowboys rode up, having been
attracted by the incessant firing.
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