Louis took refuge in the top of the mast. The bear kept mounting, and was not more than six feet from Louis, when he raised his gun and pointed it at the animal’s heart. Vasling raised his weapon to shoot Louis if the bear fell. Louis fired, but the bear did not appear to be hit, for he leaped with a bound towards the top. The whole mast shook. Vasling uttered a shout of exultation. “Herming,” he cried, “go and find Marie! Go and find my betrothed!” Herming descended the cabin stairs. Meanwhile the furious beast had thrown himself upon Louis, who was trying to shelter himself on the other side of the mast; but at the moment that his enormous paw was raised to break his head, Louis, seizing one of the backstays, let himself slip down to the deck, not without danger, for a ball hissed by his ear when he was half-way down. Vasling had shot at him, and missed him. The two adversaries now confronted each other, cutlass in hand. The combat was about to become decisive. To entirely glut his vengeance, and to have the young girl witness her lover’s death, Vasling had deprived himself of Herming’s aid. He could now reckon only on himself. Louis and Vasling seized each other by the collar, and held each other with iron grip. One of them must fall. They struck each other violently. The blows were only half parried, for blood soon flowed from both. Vasling tried to clasp his adversary about the neck with his arm, to bring him to the ground. Louis, knowing that he who fell was lost, prevented him, and succeeded in grasping his two arms; but in doing this he let fall his cutlass. Piteous cries now assailed his ears; it was Marie’s voice. Herming was trying to drag her up. Louis was seized with a desperate rage. He stiffened himself to bend Vasling’s loins; but at this moment the combatants felt themselves seized in a powerful embrace. The bear, having descended from the mast, had fallen upon the two men. Vasling was pressed against the animal’s body. Louis felt his claws entering his flesh. The bear, was strangling both of them. [Illustration: The bear, having descended from the mast, had fallen upon the two men.] “Help! help! Herming!” cried the mate. “Help! Penellan!” cried Louis. Steps were heard on the stairs. Penellan appeared, loaded his pistol, and discharged it in the bear’s ear; he roared; the pain made him relax his paws for a moment, and Louis, exhausted, fell motionless on the deck; but the bear, closing his paws tightly in a supreme agony, fell, dragging down the wretched Vasling, whose body was crushed under him. Penellan hurried to Louis Cornbutte’s assistance. No serious wound endangered his life: he had only lost his breath for a moment. “Marie!” he said, opening his eyes. “Saved!” replied Perfellan. “Herming is lying there with a knife-wound in his stomach.” “And the bears—” “Dead, Louis; dead, like our enemies! But for those beasts we should have been lost. Truly, they came to our succour. Let us thank Heaven!”