As the hunters sneaked, the old
bear stopped and sniffed suspiciously; the wind changed, she got
an unmistakable whiff; then gave a loud warning "Koff! Koff!
Koff! Koff!" and ran as fast as she could. The hunters knowing
they were discovered rushed out, yelling as loudly as possible,
in hopes of making the bears tree. The old bear ran like a horse
with Skookum yapping bravely in her rear. The young ones, left
behind, lost sight of her, and, utterly bewildered by the noise,
made for a tree conveniently near and scrambled up into the
branches. "Now," Rolf thought, judging by certain tales he had
heard, "that old bear will come back and there will be a fight."
"Is she coming back?" he asked nervously.
The Indian laughed. "No, she is running yet. Black bear always
a coward; they never fight when they can run away."
The little ones up the tree were, of course, at the mercy of the
hunters, and in this case it was not a broken straw they depended
on, but an ample salvation. "We don't need the meat and can't
carry it with us; let's leave them," said Rolf, but added, "Will
they find their mother?"
"Yes, bime-by; they come down and squall all over woods.
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