Alexis and Ivan, as they started back, simultaneously screamed out a
shout of warning to Pouchskin. Both, almost at the same instant, raised
their guns, and fired into the buttocks of the bear.
Pouchskin had heard their cries, but not the preliminary "sniff" which
the animal had uttered: he had been too eager in _listening inside of
the cave_, to hear aught that was passing without. He heard their
warning cry however, and the reports of their guns; but not in time to
get out of the way. Just as the shots were fired, he had half risen
from his recumbent attitude; but the bear at that moment dropped down
from the tree, and coming "_co-thump_" on the back of the old guardsman,
once more flattened him out upon his face!
Perhaps it would have been as well for Pouchskin, if he had quietly
remained in that attitude: for the bear had already turned from him, and
showed signs of an intention to retreat; but Pouchskin, deeming that he
was in the worst position he could well be in, scrambled suddenly to his
feet, and made a "grab" at his gun.
This show of fight on the part of his antagonist--and the belief,
perhaps, that it was Pouchskin that had so rudely tickled his
posteriors--roused the fury of the bear; and instead of exposing his
hind quarters to a second assault, he charged mouth open upon the
ex-guardsman. By this time, the latter had recovered his gun, and
promptly brought the piece to his shoulder; but, alas! the gun snapped!
The lock had been wetted in the snow-trap. It was a flint lock, and the
priming had got damped.
The failure only increased the fury of the animal; and a charge of
swan-shot, which Ivan at the same instant fired from his second barrel,
still further irritated him.
Pouchskin drew his long-bladed knife. It was the only weapon he could
lay his hand upon, for the axe, which might have served him better, had
been left above on the bank, where he had lopped the sapling.
He drew his knife, therefore, and prepared to defend himself in a _hand
to paw_ struggle.
He might still have retreated, though not with a certainty of safety--
for in the hurry of the moment the bear had got on the bank above him:
and had he turned his back, the fierce quadruped might have overtaken,
and knocked him down at his will. Pouchskin thought it better to face
the bear, and receive his onslaught at arm's length.
There was but one way in which he could have retreated, and that was
backward down the slope. He might make ground in that direction; and it
occurred to him to do so, in order to get footing on a more level
surface.
The bear having paused a moment to bite the place where the rifle bullet
had stung him, gave Pouchskin time to gain some ground backwards; but
only a few paces--since the whole affair did not occupy a tenth of the
time taken in describing it.
Just as Pouchskin had reached the bottom of the slope, his angry
assailant, with a terrific growl, rushed forth from the smoke, and
galloped directly towards him. When about three feet distant from the
hunter, Bruin reared upon his hind legs, in the attitude of a
prize-fighter!
Pouchskin was seen to lunge forward with his right arm--the one which
carried his knife; and, the moment after, both man and beast appeared
closed together, "in grips."
In this fashion they went waltzing over the snow, the spray of which
rose in a cloud around them; and for a while they were seen only as one
dark upright form, in confused and violent motion!
Ivan was uttering cries of fear--fear for the safety of his dearly-loved
Pouchskin; while Alexis, more cool, was rapidly reloading his rifle,--
knowing that the surest means of saving the life of their faithful
attendant, was to encompass the death of the bear.
It was a moment of real peril for Pouchskin. The bear was one of the
largest and fiercest he had ever encountered; and, perhaps, had he
examined the brute more minutely before the conflict commenced, he would
have thought twice before facing him. But the smoke from the guns was
still over and around the spot, hanging upon the damp air. Up to the
time when Pouchskin resolved to make stand, he had not yet had a clear
view of his shaggy antagonist. When at length he perceived the
formidable proportions of the animal, it was too late to retreat; and
the struggle began as described.
In brief time Alexis--who at loading was quick as a tirailleur--had
recharged his piece, and was now hastening up to the rescue.
Without going quite close he dared not fire: for in the way that man and
bear were dancing about, there would be as much danger of killing the
one as the other.
All at once, however, they appeared to separate. Pouchskin had torn
himself out of the bear's clutches, and, evidently disinclined to a
renewal of the embrace, was retreating backward, over the snow, still
hotly pursued by the animal.
At this moment Alexis would have fired; but, unfortunately, the
direction in which Pouchskin was going, kept his body nearly in a line
with that of the animal; and Alexis could not fire without danger of
hitting him.
The chase led across the ravine, and of course over the bed of snow.
The pursued was doing his best to escape. But the pursuer had the
advantage--for while the man was breaking through at every step, the
broad-pawed quadruped glided over the frozen crust without sinking an
inch.
Pouchskin had got a little the start, but his pursuer was fast gaining
upon him. Once or twice, indeed, the bear was close enough to touch
Pouchskin's skirts with his extended snout; but the necessity of rearing
up, before making a stroke with his paw, required him to get still
nearer, and Bruin knew that.
He had, however, got near enough even for this; and had risen on his
hind feet, with the intention of clawing down his victim. Ivan and
Alexis simultaneously uttered a cry of dismay; but before the dangerous
stroke could descend, he for whom it was intended had sunk out of sight!
At first, the young hunters believed the blow had been struck, and that
Pouchskin had fallen prostrate under it. They saw the bear spring
forward as if to cover the fallen man; but the next moment their terror
was mingled with astonishment on seeing, or rather _not_ seeing, either
man or bear: both had suddenly disappeared!