THE BEAR. 
415 
her fore-paws and roaring so she could he 
heard a mile off. “Never,” said Morton, 
“was an animal more distressed.” She would 
stretch out her neck and snap at the nearest 
dog with her shining teeth, whirling her 
fore-paws like the sails of a windmill. If 
she missed her aim, not daring to pursue 
one dog, lest the others should harm the 
cub, she would give a great roar of baffled 
rage, and go on, pawing and snapping and 
facing the ring, grinning at them with her 
mouth stretched wide. When the men came 
up, the little one was perhaps rested, for it 
was able to turn round with its dam, no 
matter how quick she moved, so as to keep 
always in front of her bell} 7 . The five dogs 
were all the time frisking about her actively, 
tormenting her like so many gad-flies: in¬ 
deed, they made it difficult to draw a bead 
on her without killing them. But Hans, 
lying on his elbow, took a quick aim and 
shot her through the head. She dropped 
at once, and rolled over without moving a 
muscle. 
“ 4 The dogs made towards her at once; but 
the cub jumped upon her body and reared up, 
for the first time growling hoarsely. They 
