MY FIRST BEAR. 145 



my vision he appeared, for I was uninitiated at that 

 time and I believe the eye has a trick of dealing in 

 the marvellous with unaccustomed objects and, to my 

 horror, Bruin was coming directly towards me. My 

 first feeling was to fly ; next, to ascend a tree ; thirdly, 

 to disappear into my boots. The second glance gave 

 me more assurance. Mr. Bear was evidently on urgent 

 private affairs; his whole manner bespoke this; and 

 he did not see me; so I determined to stand still, 

 hoping he would remain ignorant of my presence, or, 

 at least, give me a fair show, if compelled to fight. 

 Onward advanced Bruin; closer and closer he came, 

 and the nearer he approached the farther my heart 

 came into my mouth. Still he was fifty yards off, and 

 had plenty of time to change his course ; but no such 

 change took place ; for if he had been a ball bowled at 

 a wicket the precision of his course could not have 

 been truer. Twenty yards could not have intervened 

 between us when my presence became known, and the 

 manner of welcome I received was far from encourag- 

 ing, for he halted, sniffed in the air, and gave an angry 

 growl. I wished myself at home in bed, or at the 

 antipodes, or in any place but my present standpoint. 

 For remember, reader, my gun was only loaded with 

 duck shot; and I was young, and, I fear, very soft. 

 It was evident that my appearance was not intimidat- 

 ing, for my adversary neither swerved to right nor left, 

 and his wicked eyes blazed forth flashes of malignant 

 hate. Eight or ten yards more the distance was 

 diminished, when, whether from fear, certain that my 

 last moments had arrived, or knowledge of the animal's 

 habits, I gave a shout, a feeble one, of no distinct 

 note, I believe ; but the result was fortunate, for the 



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