The bear had wound his paws around the assailant's body, and to and fro they moved, each endeavoring to throw the other. Twice, incredible as it may seem, the man had put forth all of his bull strength, and the bear had tottered--had almost fallen--but each time he had recovered himself, and had borne the man back again. Both times the men had raised a cheer as the bear had staggered, and each time silence had fallen upon them as the brute had hurled back their favorite.
And now they were both becoming exhausted by the fury of the struggle. The great drops of sweat stood out upon the head and arms of the man, his shoulders heaved with the effort--but he was game; the little eyes of the brute had grown dull and glassy, he was plainly tired. It was time for the thing to stop. I had already opened my mouth to DeNortier, to ask him to put a stop to this, when the end came.
The brute had almost ceased to struggle, and his victorious antagonist was bending him backwards, when suddenly the bear stepped upon one of the swords, which still lay edge upwards upon the floor, where the dancer had left them. With a grunt of anger he straightened himself, his eyes flashed fire; plainly his brute mind in some way connected his assailant with the pain. In an instant he tightened his grasp about the man's body, tighter, tighter, tighter; and even as a score sprang forward to drag him from his prey, there was a dull crunch, and the man bent double, fell limp and lifeless to the floor, crushed to death in the terrible paws of his foe.
For an instant the beast stood there erect, his eyes upon the man as he lay at his feet; then a dozen blades leaped from their sheaths, and the seamen were upon him. The light flashed upon their swords for an instant--then the beast fell, pierced in a dozen places, and a convulsion passed over him.
The Indian, in a torrent of tears, threw himself upon his body. "Pepin!" he moaned, "they have killed thee--Pepin, speak to me."
The dying beast opened his eyes, as though called back to life by the voice of one whom he loved; a low grunt of pleasure came from him as he recognized his master. Raising his muzzle, he rubbed it against the Indian's face; then the head fell back upon the floor, a low whine, and he lay still.