Page:They who walk in the wilds, (IA theywhowalkinwil00robe).pdf/214

 geance, the stiff black hair of their necks on end with rage.

The bear, hampered though he was by the depth of the snow and by his unwieldy burden, had wallowed onwards for some forty yards or so before the avengers overtook him. The cow, in her outraged mother fury, was a little in advance of her huge mate. What she lacked in stature she made up in nimbleness and in swift hate. When she was almost upon him the bear wheeled like a flash upon his haunches and struck at her,—a terrific, sweeping blow which, had it reached its mark, would have shattered her slim like a pipe-stem. But she swerved, and it flew past her; and in the next breath she struck. It was a long-range stroke, and she was away again, lightly, out of reach; but the fierce thud upon his ribs jerked a squealing cough from his throat, and the knife-edged hoof tore a long red gash down his flank. Before he could retaliate the bull was towering over him, from the other side. With a desperate leap he evaded that onslaught, hurling himself clear over the body of his victim. Then, realizing himself overmatched, he fled, his tremendous muscles driving him through the snow like a steam-plough.

The cow stopped short at the body of her calf, sniffing at it anxiously, and licking it, and trying to coax it back to life. But the bull plunged onwards in pursuit of the fleeing slayer. With his