The bears sniffed at the blood stains where the boy
had lain on the floor, and turned fierce eyes on the figure by the
fire.
George estimated that his wood might last ten minutes longer. Then
there would be a rush, a crunching of bones and all would be over.
A rifle shot sounded from the outside, and one of the bears dropped
to the rocky floor, struggled spasmodically for a moment, and then
straightened out and lay still. The next instant another shot,
equally accurate, came and the second bear was dead in a moment.
The boy waited eagerly for the appearance of the man who had done
the shooting. He had no idea who the man might be, and was not
quite certain that the fellow had not taken from him one danger
only to place him in another. Still, he looked eagerly forward to
his appearance.
When the man appeared, a smoking double-barreled rifle in his hand,
George saw a tall, ungainly figure with long legs, a long, slim
body, very high cheek bones, and rather stern and uncompromising
blue eyes.
The newcomer was dressed in the leather jacket usually worn by
trappers in that district, leather leggins, moccasins, and fur cap.
A belt of red leather, probably colored and tanned by some Indian
process, was drawn tightly about his waist.
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