The shot struck the bear in the body, doing just what his shot at the
buffalo had done some time before. It thoroughly angered him, without
inflicting anything like a serious wound. With a growl of fury the
brute made straight for him.
What would the boy have given, as he sped down the mountain side, were
he now in his wagon, whirled over the prairie at a rate which would
enable him to laugh to scorn any such speed as that of the brute.
At first he had hopes of reaching his refuge, but he was not long in
seeing that it was impossible, and found that if he escaped he must
find some refuge very speedily.
When he suddenly found himself beneath a goodly-sized tree it looked
like a providential indication to him, and throwing his gun to the
ground, he ascended the tree in the shortest time that he had ever
made.
He was none too soon as it was, for the bear was so close beneath him
that he felt the brush of its claws alone; his feet, as he nervously
jerked them beyond its reach.
Hastily scrambling to the very top of the tree, he secured himself
among the limbs, and then glanced down to see what his enemy was
doing. Great was his relief to find him sitting on his haunches,
contenting himself with merely casting wistful glances upward.
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