THE ANTLERS OF THE CARIBOU 97 



thrust the dark bull backward with such 

 tempestuous force that the latter had all he 

 could do to keep his footing. Presently he 

 felt himself at the edge of the woods, his hind 

 feet in a tangle of bushes instead of on the 

 sand. Then, exhausted and cowed, his legs 

 gave way, and he sank back upon his haunches. 

 Frantic with despair, he struggled to butt and 

 strike with his fettered prongs, and in this 

 futile struggle he fell over on his side. The 

 white bull, his paroxysm of new vigour come 

 suddenly to an end, was dragged down with 

 him, and the two lay with heaving flanks, 

 panting noisily. 



The hunter had laid down his roll of birch 

 bark. He was just about to step forth from 

 his ambush and mercifully end the matter 

 with his knife. But there came a brusque 

 intervention. He had not been the only spec- 

 tator of the strange combat. 



Out from the thickets at the lower edge of 

 the point came plunging an enormous black 

 bear. With one huge paw uplifted, he fell 

 upon the exhausted duellists. One blow 

 smashed the neck of the white bull. Turning 

 to the other, who glared up at him with rolling, 

 hopeless eyes, he fell to biting at him with 

 slow, luxurious cruelty. 



In that instant the hunter's rifle blazed 



