th
rage, came a huge bear, whose long winter nap had been thus rudely
disturbed.

For an instant, blinded by the glare of the gray day, the creature
stopped, rising on its hind legs and snarling fearfully. Donald,
petrified with surprise, stood as though rooted to the ground. A
moment later, the bear saw the man, and, without pause, started
for him.

From an infuriated bear, there is but one means of escape--speed.
In a flash, McTavish knew that he could outstrip the clumsy animal,
for the latter would constantly break through the thin crust of
the snow. But, in the same flash, he realized what escape would
mean. His pack lay open. The hungry animal would rifle it completely,
gulp down the priceless fat meat, and strew the rest of the provisions
about. Then, the bear would go back to bed; the man would starve,
and freeze to death in two or three days.

No! Running was out of the question.

Donald's doom had suddenly crystallized into a matter of minutes.
To think with him was to act. Instantly, he drew his two knives,
the long, keen hunter's blade in his right hand, the other in his
left.

And, now, the bear was but twenty feet away, and coming on all-fours,
its eyes gleaming wickedly, its mouth slavering. At ten feet, it
suddenly rose on its hind legs, and then McTavish acted. With two
swift, sliding steps forward on his snowshoes, his face was buried
in the coarse fur of the animal's chest before the creature had
fathomed the movement.

Then, the knives played wickedly. The long one in the right hand
shot to the hilt in the heart; the one in the left went deep into
the throat, and McTavish slipped downward before the great clasp
--which would have broken his back--could close upon him... Turning,
he ran as he had never run before.

But there was little need. The bear, stricken in two vital spots,
coughed hoarsely once or twice, spraying the clean snow scarlet,
and dropped on all-fours. There, it swayed a moment, suddenly turned
round and round swiftly, and fell motionless.

The victor approached cautiously. The animal was dead. The man
withdrew his two knives, and, with all haste, skinned the animal
in part, for now another danger presented itself. Although he had
pushed starvation several days away, yet the smell of the kill
would draw the wild folk, particularly the wolves. Quickly, he cut
what he could safely carry of the choicest meat, and bestowed it
in the pack, taking every precaution that no blood