Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
Bear sprang aside and struck with his armed paw. 
Had the blow landed on her ribs it might have 
ended her power, but it was received on her solid 
shoulder mass. It sent her staggering back, and 
as she went she gave the loud shrilling call for help, 
the call she should have given at first, the blast that 
stirs the blood of the Razor-back who hears it as 
the coast patrol is stirred by the cry for help. And 
again she fronted the Bear. Slowly turning this 
way and that, they faced each other, each watching 
for a chance. Grizel made a feint, the foe swung 
back, she charged. The Bear recoiled a little, 
braced, then swung and dodged, then as she passed 
he struck a mighty blow that hurled her, badly 
bruised and struggling, down the slope three leaps 
away, and over the cut bank, to splash into the 
stream below. 
She could swim quite well, but loved it not. She 
splashed as she struck out, and gave no cry, for 
the blow had robbed her of her wind. Then the 
kindly stream bore her quickly down to a far and 
easy landing. 
A moving in the bushes, a large animal sound, 
and on the bank there loomed a bulk of reddish 
black. Grizel now scrambled out and with the 
low short sounds of recognition they came together. R 
But Foam had come a little late. The Bear was 
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