Henri did not pause, but with a flying dash he sprang like a spread
eagle, arms and legs extended, right into the bear's bosom. At the
same moment he sent his long hunting-knife down into its heart. But
Bruin is proverbially hard to kill, and although mortally wounded, he
had strength enough to open his jaws and close them on Henri's neck.
There was a cry of horror, and at the same moment a volley was fired
at the bear's head; for the trappers felt that it was better to risk
shooting their comrades than see them killed before their eyes.
Fortunately the bullets took effect, and tumbled him over at once
without doing damage to either of the men, although several of the
balls just grazed Henri's temple and carried off his cap.
Although uninjured by the shot, the poor Iroquois had not escaped
scathless from the paw of the bear. His scalp was torn almost off, and
hung down over his eyes, while blood streamed down his face. He was
conveyed by his comrades to the camp, where he lay two days in a state
of insensibility, at the end of which time he revived and recovered
daily.
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