attention to other matters.

"One of them behemoths of 'Oly Writ," muttered Tippet as they came

to a halt and with guns ready awaited the almost inevitable charge.

"Hungry lot o' beggars, these," said Bradley; "always trying to

eat everything they see."

For a moment no further sound came from the thicket. "He may be

feeding now," suggested Bradley. "We'll try to go around him.

Can't waste ammunition. Won't last forever. Follow me." And he

set off at right angles to their former course, hoping to avert

a charge. They had taken a dozen steps, perhaps, when the

thicket moved to the advance of the thing within it, the leafy

branches parted, and the hideous head of a gigantic bear emerged.

"Pick your trees," whispered Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The men looked about them. The bear took a couple of steps

forward, still growling menacingly. He was exposed to the

shoulders now. Tippet took one look at the monster and bolted

for the nearest tree; and then the bear charged. He charged

straight for Tippet. The other men scattered for the various

trees they had selected--all except Bradley. He stood watching

Tippet and the bear. The man had a good start and the tree was

not far away; but the speed of the enormous creature behind him

was something to marvel at, yet Tippet was in a fair way to make

his sanctuary when his foot caught in a tangle of roots and down

he went, his rifle flying from his hand and falling several

yards away. Instantly Bradley's piece was at his shoulder, there

was a sharp report answered by a roar of mingled rage and pain

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