Bruin had eluded the dogs a few minutes by climbing a bending tree at the mouth of the valley, from which he passed to another, and descending again to the earth, proceeded almost exhausted up the ravine. Joe’s eyes grew larger and larger as the monster approached, and when within a few feet of him he uttered a horrible unearthly sound, which attracted the bear, and fearing the fatal aim of man more than the teeth of the dogs, he whirled about, with a determination to fight his way back, in preference to again risking the murderous lead. No sooner was the bear out of sight, and plunging down the dell amid the cries of the dogs, which assailed him on all sides, than Joe bethought him of his gun, and becoming valorous, ran a few steps down the path and fired in the direction of the confused melée. The moment after he discharged his musket, the back part of his head struck the earth, and the gun made two or three end-over-end revolutions up the path behind him. Never, perhaps, was such a rebound from overloading known before. Joe now thought not of the bear, nor looked to see what execution he had done. He thought of his own person, which he found prostrate on the ground. When somewhat recovered from the blow, he rose with his hand pressed to his nose, while the blood ran out between his fingers. “Oh! my goodness!” he exclaimed, seating himself at the root of a pecan tree, and rocking backwards and forwards. “What’s your gun doing up here?” exclaimed Sneak, coming down the path. Joe made no answer, but continued to rock backwards and forwards most dolefully. “Why don’t you speak? Where’s the bar?” “I don’t know. Oh!” murmured Joe. “What’s the matter?” inquired Sneak, seeing the copious effusion of blood. “I shot off that outrageous musket, and it’s kicked my nose to pieces! I shall faint!” said Joe, dropping his head between his knees. “Faint? I never saw a _man_ faint!” said Sneak, listening to the chase below. “Oh! can’t you help me to stop this blood?” “Don’t you hear _that_, down there?” replied Sneak, his attention entirely directed to that which was going on in the valley. “My ears are deafened by that savage gun! I can’t hear a bit, hardly! Oh, what shall I do, Mr. Sneak?” continued Joe. “Dod rot it!” exclaimed Sneak, leaping like a wild buck down the path, and paying no further attention to the piteous lamentations of his comrade.