In less than a quarter of an hour the distance between pursuers and pursued was lessened to a few hundred yards, and then they were not far from the water,--which to the one was safety, to the other defeat. During all this time the old bear was kept back by the young one, which she was evidently unwilling to abandon. The poor beast was in agony. Her cries were piteous to hear. The little one jogged on by her side, frightened and anxious; and, although it greatly retarded her progress, yet, in full view of the danger, she would not abandon it. Fear and maternal affection appeared alternately to govern her resolution; but still she held firm to her dependent offspring. One moment she would rush forward toward the open water, as if intent only upon her own safety,--then she would wheel round and push on the struggling cub with her snout; and then again she would run beside it as if coaxingly encouraging it to greater speed. Meanwhile her enemies were rushing on and steadily nearing the game. The dogs, forgetting their own fatigue in the prospect of a speedy encounter, pressed harder and harder into their collars. The critical moment was rapidly approaching; and, to add to the embarrassments of the bruin family, the little bear was giving out. At length the sledges were within fifty yards of the struggling animals. Leaning forward, each hunter now seized the end of the line which bound the traces together in one fastening, and slipped the knot. The sledges stopped, and the dogs, freed from the load which they had been dragging, bounded fiercely for their prey. The old bear heard the rush of her coming enemies, and, halting, squared herself to meet the assault, while the little one ran frightened round her, and then crouched for shelter between her legs.