“Pooh! pooh!” said Denys warmly; “petrone nor harquebuss shall ever put
down Sir Arbalest. Why, we can shoot ten times while they are putting
their charcoal and their lead into their leathern smoke belchers, and
then kindling their matches. All that is too fumbling for the field of
battle; there a soldier's weapon needs be aye ready, like his heart.”
Gerard did not answer, for his ear was attracted by a sound behind
them. It was a peculiar sound, too, like something heavy, but not hard,
rushing softly over the dead leaves. He turned round with some little
curiosity. A colossal creature was coming down the road at about sixty
paces' distance.
He looked at it in a sort of calm stupor at first, but the next moment,
he turned ashy pale.
“Denys!” he cried. “Oh, God! Denys!”
Denys whirled round.
It was a bear as big as a cart-horse.
It was tearing along with its huge head down, running on a hot scent.
The very moment he saw it Denys said in a sickening whisper--
“THE CUB!”
Oh! the concentrated horror of that one word, whispered hoarsely, with
dilating eyes! For in that syllable it all flashed upon them both like
a sudden stroke of lightning in the dark--the bloody trail, the murdered
cub, the mother upon them, and it. DEATH.
All this in a moment of time. The next, she saw them. Huge as she was,
she seemed to double herself (it was her long hair bristling with rage):
she raised her head big as a hull's, her swine-shaped jaws opened wide
at them, her eyes turned to blood and flame, and she rushed upon them,
scattering the leaves about her like a whirlwind as she came.
“Shoot!” screamed Denys, but Gerard stood shaking from head to foot,
useless.
“Shoot, man! ten thousand devils, shoot! too late! Tree! tree!” and he
dropped the cub, pushed Gerard across the road, and flew to the first
tree and climbed it, Gerard the same on his side; and as they fled, both
men uttered inhuman howls like savage creatures grazed by death.
With all their speed one or other would have been torn to fragments at
the foot of his tree; but the bear stopped a moment at the cub.
Without taking her bloodshot eyes off those she was hunting, she smelt
it all round, and found, how, her Creator only knows, that it was dead,
quite dead. She gave a yell such as neither of the hunted ones had ever
heard, nor dreamed to be in nature, and flew after Denys. She reared and
struck at him as he climbed. He was just out of reach.
Instantly she seized the tree, and with her huge teeth tore a great
piece out of it with a crash. Then she reared again, dug her claws deep
into the bark, and began to mount it slowly, but as surely as a monkey.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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