doubt
the bear would give chase; and although a bear cannot run down hill
as fast as he can run up hill, yet I felt that he could get over this
rough, brush-tangled ground faster than I could.

The bear was approaching. It suddenly occurred to me how I could divert
his mind until I could fall back upon my military base. My pail was
nearly full of excellent berries, much better than the bear could pick
himself. I put the pail on the ground, and slowly backed away from it,
keeping my eye, as beast-tamers do, on the bear. The ruse succeeded.

The bear came up to the berries, and stopped. Not accustomed to eat out
of a pail, he tipped it over, and nosed about in the fruit, "gorming"
(if there is such a word) it down, mixed with leaves and dirt, like a
pig. The bear is a worse feeder than the pig. Whenever he disturbs a
maple-sugar camp in the spring, he always upsets the buckets of syrup,
and tramples round in the sticky sweets, wasting more than he eats. The
bear's manners are thoroughly disagreeable.

As soon as my enemy's head was down, I started and ran. Somewhat out of
breath, and shaky, I reached my faithful rifle. It was not a moment too
soon. I heard the bear crashing through the brush after me. Enraged at
my duplicity, he was now coming on with blood in his eye. I felt that
the time of one of us was probably short. The rapidity of thought at
such moments of peril is well known. I thought an octavo volume, had
it illustrated and published, sold fifty thousand copies, and went to
Europe on the proceeds, while that bear was loping across the clearing.
As I was cocking the gun, I made a hasty and unsatisfactory review of
my whole life. I noted, that, even in such a compulsory review, it is
almost impossible to think of any good thing you have done. The sins
come out uncommonly strong. I recollected a newspaper subscription I had
delayed paying years and years ago, until both editor and newspaper were
dead, and which now never could be paid to all eternity.

The bear was coming on.

I tried to remember what I had read about encounters with bears. I
couldn't recall an instance in which a man had run away from a bear in
the woods and escaped, although I recalled plenty where the bear had run
from the man and got off. I tried to think what is the best way to kill
a bear with a gun, when you are not near enough to club him with the
stock. My first thought was to fire at his head; to plant the ball
between his eyes: bu