144 THE MOOSE 



The air seemed tense with untoward chances, and 

 the trapper suddenly felt that his quarry was about 

 to come out. Something — a sixth sense, perhaps — 

 warned him to get ready. Dropping his spruce-pole, 

 his hand in its thick fur mitts brought up the rifle. 



He raised the foresight, and at that instant a 

 bulky mass shot through the recently fastened up 

 entrance with incredible rapidity, followed by two 

 hampering little creatures, who tumbled about on 

 the snow on insecure cramped legs. 



The trapper pulled off instantly, and the bear fell 

 forward, catching the strong light from the snow 

 on her glossy black coat — a splendid beast, robed 

 royally for winter. 



Turning her head, she bit savagely at the wound 

 in her side, and with long curved claws beat the 

 ground in furious impotence ; and then rallying, 

 with a speed wonderful for so cumbersome and 

 ungainly an animal, she shot at her enemy, ears 

 back, snout upraised, hindquarters low, with all the 

 strength and force and striking-power of her thrown 

 into the massive forearms. In another stride or 

 two she would have been on her enemy, but she 

 reckoned without his modern rifle. She faced no 

 ill-equipped Indian hunter. 



