Being ignorant of the resources of a magazine rifle, the
half-breed dropped it, and ran towards a deserted outhouse
close to the horse corral.
Thoroughly infuriated now by the bullet-wound, the bear
made after him. As he could not annihilate the two men
at once, he confined his efforts with praiseworthy
singleness of purpose to the man who had fired the shot.
It was lucky for the fugitive that bullet had somewhat
lamed the great brute, otherwise it would not have needed
to run far before overtaking him.
It was an exciting chase. The breed reached the hut, but,
as there was neither open door nor window, he was obliged
to scuttle round and round it, after the manner of a
small boy pursued by a big one. Sometimes the bear, with
almost human intelligence, would stop short and face the
other way, when the breed would all but run into him,
and then the route would be reversed. On the Countenance
of the hunted one was a look of mortal terror; his eyes
fairly started from his head, and his face streamed with
perspiration. It seemed like a judgment upon him for
breaking his word to the rancher and interfering with
the girl, when he might now have been well on his way to
Battleford.
While this was going on, the cross-eyed ruffian endeavoured
to clamber on to the roof of the hut by jumping up and
catching the projecting sapling as Dorothy had done, but
the girl stopped him in this by tapping his knuckles with
the pole.
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