Such was the confusion and perpetual movement of the struggle, that I
dared not fire again, seeing that even slightly wounding one of our
gallant hounds would instantly place him in the power of the raging
bears.
Watching our opportunity, we suddenly advanced with loaded pistols to
within a very few paces of the animals, and firing, both fell dead, one
shot through the head, the other, in the act of rearing to spring on
Fritz, received his charge in its heart.
`Thank Heaven!' cried I, as with dull groans the brutes sank to the
ground. `We have escaped the greatest peril we have yet encountered!'
The dogs continued to tear and worry the fallen foe, as though
unwilling to trust the appearance of death. With feelings somewhat
akin, I drew my hunting-knife, and made assurance doubly sure.
Seeing all safe, Jack raised a shout of victory, that poor Ernest
might gain courage to approach the scene of conflict, which at last he
did, and joined us in examining the dangerous animals, as they lay
motionless before us.
Every point was full of interest, their wounds, their sharp teeth,
their mighty claws, the extraordinary strength of neck and shoulder,
all were remarked and commented on, and observing that the shaded brown
hair was tipped with glossy white, I thought that these might be the
silver bears* mentioned in Captain Clarke's journey to the north-west
coasts of America.
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