My foot was imprisoned and I fell with a heavy thud on my face. For an instant I was dazed, but even in my dazed state I was fully conscious of Pete’s impending peril, and I kicked and struggled blindly to free myself. My gun had been flung from my hand in my fall and was out of my reach. Then to my horror I heard the howl the wolf gives when game is in sight, and even half blind as I was I saw dark, dog-like forms sweep by me; I heard the scream of an eagle; I heard a snarling and yelping, the sounds of a struggle—I ceased to kick, wiped the blood from my eyes and looked ahead. There lay Big Pete Darlinkel, dead or unconscious, and within ten feet of him stood the giant bear surrounded by a vicious pack of gaunt red-mouthed wolves. The bear made a rush and a shadow passed over the ground; I heard the sound of a large body rushing swiftly through the air, and an immense eagle struck the bear like a thunderbolt; at the same instant the wolves attacked him from all sides; then there was a whistle keen and clear; the wolves retreated; the bird again soared aloft; the bear made several passes in the air in search of the bird, fell forward again on all fours, rose on its hind legs and killed a wolf with one sweep of its great paw. The bear now made a dash at the giant leader of the pack, only to fall forward, dead, with its ugly nose across Big Pete’s chest. Then I remembered hearing the crack of a rifle, and knew that the Wild Mountain Man had saved our lives. I tried to rise but found my ankle so badly sprained that I could not stand on it. Suddenly a low voice with a hint of an Irish accent said, “Sit down, stranger, while I look to your mate,” and I saw the tall lithe figure of a man clothed in buckskin bending over Pete. “Only stunned, friend,” said he, and I heard no more. The blow on my head, combined with the pain from my ankle was too much for me, and now that the danger was over it was a good time to faint, and I took advantage of it. How long I remained unconscious I do not know, but when my eyes opened again it was night; through the interlacing boughs overhead the stars were shining brightly, my head was neatly bandaged and so was my foot and ankle. I could hear our horses cropping grass near by. I raised my head and there lay Pete; he was alive I knew by his snores that issued from his nose, and we were in our own camp; but—what are those animals by our camp fire? Wolves! gaunt, shaggy wolves! I hastily arose to a sitting posture, but my alarm subsided when in the dim light of the fire I could trace the outline of another man’s figure, and on a stick close to the stranger’s head roosted a giant bird. Could it be that this wild man of the mountain—possibly my own father—was camping with us? CHAPTER V “Moseyed, by gum! I’ll be tarnally tarnashuned if that terri-fa-ca-cious spook hain’t pulled out!” was the exclamation that awakened me the morning after our adventure with the bear.