OLD SNOOK AND THE COW 121
word, the scene would have stood out very vividly before my mental vision. He showed the hootz grubbing among mossy logs and flirting the salmon out of a swift mountain stream; then Snook came in sight, creeping stealthily through the forest, a flintlock musket in one hand, his spear in the other. From that point the story grew more animated and the gestures more rapid to the climax. I can best tell it in the present tense:
The bear hears a stick snap and catches a faint human odor; he stands up on his hind feet to investigate. His lips are drawn back from his big teeth, and. he snarls a question.
The man dodges behind a tree; creeps closer—cautiously flits from tree to tree—moves slowly out from a sheltering trunk—sinks on one knee—raises his gun—aims. "Bang!" from the gun,—"wah-a-ah-gr-r-r!" from the bear. The bear whirls round and round, biting his wound; then he charges straight for the man, his teeth champing, his jaws slavering.
The man throws away the gun and takes his spear in both hands. He steps boldly out in the open and stands still, his left foot