Without taking her bloodshot eyes off those she was hunting, she smelt
it all round, and found, how, her Creator only knows, that it was dead,
quite dead. She gave a yell such as neither of the hunted ones had ever
heard, nor dreamed to be in nature, and flew after Denys. She reared and
struck at him as he climbed. He was just out of reach.
Instantly she seized the tree, and with her huge teeth tore a great
piece out of it with a crash. Then she reared again, dug her claws deep
into the bark, and began to mount it slowly, but as surely as a monkey.
Denys's evil star had led him to a dead tree, a mere shaft, and of no
very great height. He climbed faster than his pursuer, and was soon at
the top. He looked this way and that for some bough of another tree to
spring to. There was none; and if he jumped down, he knew the bear would
be upon him ere he could recover the fall, and make short work of him.
Moreover, Denys was little used to turning his back on danger, and his
blood was rising at being hunted. He turned to bay.
"My hour is come," thought he. "Let me meet death like a man." He
kneeled down and grasped a small shoot to steady himself, drew his long
knife, and clenching his teeth, prepared to jab the huge brute as soon
as it should mount within reach.
Of this combat the result was not doubtful.
The monster's head and neck were scarce vulnerable for bone and masses
of hair.
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