However good Bob's intentions were, when he sought to draw the
attention of the grizzly toward himself, they did not succeed as he had
hoped. Bruin seemed to know that a feast awaited him as soon as he
could clear a way to that frantic little burro with the big load. And
he declined to be turned aside on any account.
Seeing this, the Kentucky boy dropped on one knee. He felt that he
must find some sort of rest for his gun, since his shaking hands could
hardly be expected to hold the weapon steady when it came time to pull
the trigger.
Even as Frank swept up his gun he heard the weapon of his chum speak
sharply. The report was instantly drowned in a tremendous roar.
Looking, even as he drew back the hammer of his rifle, Frank saw that
the bear had finally turned away from temptation in the way of meat and
supplies. He had started to rush Bob, whom he evidently recognized as
the cause of that sudden pain which had shot through his bulky body.
Bob was pumping another cartridge into the firing chamber of his
repeater. He seemed cool, although perhaps only he himself knew how
his heart was pounding away like mad against his ribs.
Both guns spoke together, it seemed. The grizzly gave another roar,
even more furious than before. At the same time, however, he stumbled,
and fell over sideways. Then he tried desperately to scramble back to
his four feet, still full of fight.
Both the boys again put their guns in a firing condition.
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