Tearing down upon him in a rapid, lumbering gallop was a monstrous bear. It needed no second glance to tell that it was a grizzly. The little eyes incandescent with rage, the big hump just back of the ears, the enormous size and bulk could belong to none other than this dreaded king of the Rockies.

For an instant every drop of blood in Bert's body seemed to rush to his head. It suffused his eyes with a red film and sounded like thunder in his ears. Then the flood receded and left him cold as ice. He was himself again, cool, self-reliant, with his mental processes working like lightning.

He had no time to unfasten the canoe. Long before he could get in and push off, the bear would have been on top of him. The beast was not more than thirty feet away and two or three more lunges would bring him to the water's edge.

Bert's first impulse was to dive into the lake and seek to escape by swimming. But this he discarded at once. Fast as he was, he knew that the grizzly could outswim him.

With a quick turn to the left, he plunged into the woods, running like a deer. The bear lost a second or two in trying to check his momentum. Then he turned also and went crashing through the underbrush in pursuit.

Had the going been open Bert might have made good his escape. His legs and wind had once won him a Marathon from the fleetest flyers of the world. But here conditions were against him. Vines reached out to trip him. Impenetrable thickets turned him aside. He had to dodge and twist and squirm his way through the undergrowth.

But the bear had no such handicaps. His great body crashed straight through all obstacles. The fearful padding of those monstrous feet came nearer and nearer. Bert's legs worked like piston rods, but to no avail. The distance between them steadily decreased, and now he could hear the labored breathing of his enraged pursuer close on his heels. It was like a hideous nightmare, and gradually the conviction began to force itself upon him that he was running his last race. Once in the grip of that monster, nothing could save him from a frightful death.

But he would not give up. The old "never say die" spirit that had carried him through so many tight places still persisted. On, on, he ran, putting every ounce of speed and strength in one last spurt. He could feel the hot breath of the grizzly and the padding feet were terribly near. Then, just as the beast was ready to hurl its huge bulk against him, Bert swung on his heel like a pivot, doubled in his tracks and flashed back past his pursuer, just escaping a lunge from the outstretched paw. But that marvelous swaying motion of the hips that had eluded so many tacklers on the football field stood him in stead, and he just grazed the enormous claw that tried to stop him.

That strategy proved his salvation. The grizzly plunged along for many feet before he could turn, and in that instant's respite Bert saw his chance.

Right in front of him was a tall oak whose lowest branch was full twenty feet from the ground. Like a streak Bert reached it, whirled around to the farther side and swarmed up it like a monkey. He reached the fork and swung himself out on the branch with not a second to spare. The grizzly, frothing with rage and hate, had hurled himself against the tree and his up-reaching claw had torn the bark in a vain attempt to clutch the leg that he only missed by inches.

But he was balked. He could not climb, and the tree was too big for him to tear down, as he might have done had it been slenderer or younger. By the narrowest of margins he had failed to add one more victim to those who had already fallen before his ferocity.

Not that he had relinquished hope. He had lost in the open attack, but he still had the resource of a siege. Soon or late he was sure his victim would have to descend. His victory was only deferred. Back and forth and round and round the tree he paced, growling fiercely, at times rearing himself on his hind legs and tearing savagely at the trunk. His open jaws, slavering with foam and showing his great yellow fangs, were full of fearful menace, and his wicked eyes glowed like a furnace. His temper, evil at all times, had been rendered worse by the fury of the chase and disappointment at his failure. Baffled rage bristled in every hair of his shaggy hide. At that moment he would have charged a regiment.

Bert settled himself in the crotch of the tree and gazed at his thwarted enemy with a sensation of indescribable relief. He was drenched with sweat, his clothes were torn by that wild race through the brush, his breath came in gasps that were almost sobs, and his heart was beating like a triphammer. He had looked into the very eyes of death and almost by a miracle had escaped. For the present, at least, he was safe. His giant adversary could not reach him.

Had he been entirely alone in this wild section of the mountains, or had his whereabouts been unknown, his situation would have been hopeless. The bear might settle down to a siege of many days, and he had powerful allies in sleep and hunger. If wearied nature should assert her rights and Bert in a moment of drowsiness topple from his perch, or if, driven by starvation, he should make a last despairing effort to escape, the chances would be all against him. The instinct of the grizzly told him that, if not interfered with, time alone was all that was necessary to bring his foe within his grasp.

But there were Dick and Tom to be reckoned with, and beyond them was Melton, who would surely organize a party and come to his aid. He knew that his comrades would not leave him in the lurch and that they would risk their lives to save him from his perilous position. No doubt but at that moment they were working with might and main to devise some plan of rescue.

But what could they do? He had taken the canoe and they had no means of getting over to him. Had they known of the narrow peninsula on the farther side, they might have worked their way around the end of the lake. But they thought the place was an island, only to be reached by water. Both were strong swimmers and could easily win their way over. But they couldn't do that and keep their guns dry, and without weapons they could do nothing.

In the wild dash through the woods he had described almost a perfect circle, and the tree in which he was sheltered commanded a view of the canoe and the shimmering water beyond. It maddened him to see the boat rocking there idly, as useless to him at that moment as though it were a thousand miles away.

If he had only brought his rifle with him! How thoughtless of him to take such a chance! The words of Mr. Melton at the breakfast table recurred to him and he fairly writhed in an agony of self-reproach.

The grizzly had by this time realized that nothing could be done for the present but wait. He ceased his restless swaying to and fro and squatted down on his haunches, his murderous eyes never leaving Bert for an instant.

On the other side of the lake Dick and Tom were working with feverish energy, almost beside themselves with fear at their comrade's terrible plight.

They had awakened soon after Bert's departure, and had been startled for a moment at finding him gone. The absence of the canoe, however, followed by a glimpse of it on the shore across the water, had reassured them, and they had waited more or less patiently for his reappearance.

Suddenly Dick started to his feet.

"What's that?" he cried, pointing to the woods near the water's edge.

"Where?" exclaimed Tom, startled out of his usual calm by the evident alarm in Dick's voice.

"In that big clump of trees over to the right," was the answer, and then his voice rose to a shout: "Great Scott! It's a grizzly."

"And there comes Bert," yelled Tom. "Bert, Bert," they shouted wildly, rushing down to the shore and waving their hands frantically.

They had seen Bert dart off into the woods with the bear in hot pursuit, but the outcome of the chase had been hidden from their view. They did not dare to think of what might have happened, and they looked at each other in helpless anguish.

"Quick!" yelled Dick, wrenching himself loose from the paralysis that had seized him. "A raft. We've got to get over there with the guns. We've got a paddle left and we can push ourselves over. Oh, Bert, Bert!" he groaned.

But Tom intervened.

"No good," he said hurriedly. "It'll take too long to make it and we'd be too slow in getting across. The canoe's our only chance. You get the guns ready."

He kicked off his shoes, tore off his clothes, dived head foremost into the lake, and with long, powerful strokes headed for the farther shore.

He had an almost amphibious love for the water and the task he had set for himself was easy. But his fear for Bert and his impatience at the delay before he could help him made it seem to him as though he were going at a snail's pace, although in reality he was cleaving the water like a fish.

Bert, looking out from his perch in the tree, suddenly had his attention attracted by something on the smooth surface. He thought at first that it was a water fowl. Then he looked more closely, and his heart gave a great bound as he recognized that it was one of his comrades, although he could not tell which one at that distance. He saw that the swimmer was headed straight for the canoe, and he surmised the plan in an instant.

"Good old Dick and Tom," he exulted to himself. "They're two pals in a thousand. I knew they'd get me out of this or die in the trying."

But the bear, too, seemed to realize that something was happening. His scent was phenomenally keen, and the wind was blowing directly toward him from the lake. He sniffed the air for a moment and then, with a threatening growl, looked toward the water. Then he rose slowly and backed in that direction, still keeping an eye on Bert.

The latter took alarm at once. Here was a new complication. If the bear should discover the swimmer, who was now nearing the shore, it might be fatal. At all events his attention must be distracted.

With Bert, to think was to act. He grasped the branch tightly and swung himself down at full length, so that his dangling feet were almost within the bear's reach. The grizzly, with an exultant "whuff," galloped clumsily back to the tree and made a ferocious swipe at his enemy, who pulled himself up just in time. Snarling and mouthing horribly, the bear once more moved toward the lake, torn between the desire to investigate and the fear that his victim might escape. Once more Bert worked the same maneuver and again the bear "fell" for it.

But the crisis was past. There was no need now to repeat. Tom had reached the canoe, climbed into it, and with powerful strokes of the paddle sent it flying toward the mainland. Not, however, till his heart had been thrilled with joy by Bert's yell that rang far out on the water.

"I'm up a tree, old man," called the voice that Tom had feared he might never hear again, "but I'm all right."

"Thank God," answered Tom, and tried to add something else, but couldn't.

Once more on shore he jubilantly reported to Dick, whose delight at the news of Bert's present safety passed all bounds.

The first rejoicing over, they hastily laid their plans.

"Are the guns ready?" asked Tom as he got into his clothes.

"They're all right," answered Dick. "To make sure, I unloaded and filled them up with new cartridges. Everything's in perfect shape."

They did not underestimate the task before them. They were taking their lives in their hands in attacking this monster of the wilds. But had he been ten times as big or ten times as savage they would not have hesitated an instant, with Bert's life as the stake.

Knowing that the wind was blowing toward the bear from where they were, they deemed it wise, as a plan of campaign, to paddle to the other side of the island and come upon the foe from the rear. If they could take him unawares, and pump a bullet or two into his great carcass before he had time to charge, their chances of success would be immensely greater.

Moving as warily as Indians, they dipped their paddles in the water and made for the upper end of the supposed island. They rounded the point and disembarked. Clutching their guns firmly and straining their eyes, as they gazed into the dark green recesses of the woods, they advanced, scarcely daring to breathe.

"I'm going to signal," whispered Dick. "That'll warn Bert that we're coming and he'll keep the bear busy." And the next instant the mournful cry of the whippoorwill floated through the forest.

It was an accomplishment that the boys had frequently practised, and the counterfeit was perfect enough to deceive the birds themselves.

They waited an instant, and then they heard Bert's answering "whippoorwill."

The bear paid no attention to the familiar sound, and it was evident that his suspicions had not been aroused.

Guiding themselves by the repetition of the cry Dick and Tom pressed forward, their guns ready for instant use at the first sight of the enemy.

Bert had promptly grasped the meaning of the signal. It was imperative that the bear's attention should be centered on himself alone. The only thing he found in his pocket was a jack-knife, but he threw this with such precision that it struck the bear full on the point of the nose and evoked a roar of fury. A shower of twigs and branches added insult to injury, until the great beast was beside himself with rage. He had no thought or eyes or ears for anything but Bert.

And now the whippoorwill was close at hand.

Two spurts of flame leaped from the forest on the right. With a ferocious snarl the grizzly whirled about in the direction of the shots. As he did so two more bullets plowed their way into his breast. He tore savagely at the wounds, and then plunged fiercely in the direction of his unseen foes.

But his hour had struck. Another volley halted him in his tracks. He sagged, coughed, and fell in a crumpled mass to the ground.

With a wild hurrah, Dick and Tom broke from cover, dropped their guns and threw their arms about Bert, who had slid down to the foot of the tree.

The strain had been so great and the reaction was so tremendous that none of them for a moment knew what he was doing. They shouted, laughed and grasped each others' hands, too excited for coherent speech. They had been through many perils together, but none so great and terrible as this. And now all three were together again, safe and sound, and the grizzly——

"Look out," screamed Bert, his face going white.

They jumped as though they had been shot.

Not ten feet away was the grizzly coming down on them like a locomotive. His mouth was open, his eyes blazing, and with the blood flowing from his wounds he made a hideous picture as he rushed forward. They had forgotten to reckon with the wonderful tenacity of life that makes a grizzly bear the hardest thing in the world to kill. Six bullets were embedded in his carcass and his life was ebbing. But his fiendish ferocity was unimpaired, and he had gathered himself together for one last onslaught.

There was no time to think, no chance to resist. The guns were on the ground, and merely to stoop for them meant that the bear would be upon them before they could rise. With one bound the boys leaped aside, and scattered through the woods at the top of their speed.

The bear hesitated a second, as though undecided whom to follow, and then put after Bert.

But it was a very different race this time from that of an hour before. Then the odds had been against the fugitive; now they were with him. The rage of the bear was greater, but his speed and strength were failing. Bert easily increased his distance, and as he ran his quick mind formed a plan of action.

Running in a circle, he gradually drew his pursuer around to the tree where he had sought refuge. He had figured on grabbing one of the guns and shinning up to the friendly crotch, there to despatch his foe at leisure. But as he rose with the rifle in his hand he saw that there was no time for this.

Dropping on one knee he took careful aim, and as the grizzly rose on its hind legs to grasp him, fired point blank at the spot just below the fore leg that marked the heart. Then he jumped aside.

The bear spun around once, toppled and fell with a tremendous crash on the spot where Bert had been a moment before.

Once more Bert raised his rifle, looking narrowly for any sign of life. But the last bullet had done the work. A convulsive shudder ran through the bear's enormous length. Then he stiffened out and a glaze crept over the wicked eyes. He had fought his last fight.

And as Bert looked down at him, his relief and exultation were tempered by a feeling of respect for the brute's courage. Never for a moment had he shown the white feather. He had fought gallantly and gone down fighting.

Tom and Dick, who had now rejoined him, shared his feeling.

"Nothing 'yellow' about that old rascal but his hide," commented Dick.

"A fighter from Fightersville," added Tom.

When their jubilation had somewhat subsided, they measured their quarry.

"Ten feet four inches, from the tip of the nose to the root of the tail," announced Tom. "Gee, but he's a monster."

"The daddy of them all," said Dick.

"He must weigh over half a ton," judged Bert.

They looked with a shudder at the terrible claws and fangs.

"They say that a grizzly has forty-two teeth," remarked Tom, "but I thought he had forty-two thousand when he was bearing down upon us with his mouth open."

"Well, now the question is what are we going to do with him," said Dick.

"That's a pleasant way to put it," laughed Bert. "A little while ago the question was what was he going to do with us."

"I don't know," he mused, "what we can do. We can't skin him, because we haven't the proper knives, and then, too, it takes an expert to get that hide off without spoiling it. On the other hand, we can't leave it here and expect to find it in the morning. The other animals will feast on the carcass, and the skin won't be any good when they've got through tearing it. If it were a deer we could hang it up out of reach. But we couldn't even move this mountain, let alone lift it."

"Of course we can come back and get the teeth and claws, anyway," put in Dick. "But I hate like thunder to lose the skin."

"I tell you what," suggested Bert. "Let's hustle around and get as many big stones as we can find. We'll pile up a sort of funeral mound around him that the animals can't work through or pull away. Then in the morning we'll get some of the boys from the ranch to come up with us and get the hide. It may not work, but I think it will, and, anyway, we've got to take the chance."

Luckily for the carrying out of the plan, big stones abounded in the vicinity and a few minutes of hard work sufficed to gather together enough to make it probable that the body would remain undisturbed till they came for it.

"And now, fellows," said Bert, gazing at the sun, "it's the quick sneak for us if we want to get back to the ranch before dark. Forward, march."

With a last look at the scene of their thrilling experience, they boarded the canoe, shot across the lake, and, packing up their traps, set out for the ranch. They made quick time of it, as the road was now familiar and led downhill all the way. Yet, despite their speed, dusk was settling down when they reached the house, to receive a hearty greeting from their hosts, who were becoming a little anxious at the delay.

Mrs. Melton paled as she heard the story of their frightful danger, and Melton himself was deeply stirred at their narrow escape. He, better than any one else, realized all the horror of the case had victory declared on the side of the bear.

"You'll never be nearer death than you were to-day, my boys," he said gravely; "and a kind of death that I don't care to think about. I'll send Sandy and some of the men up to-morrow to get the skin, and I hope that hide will be the nearest you ever come to seeing a grizzly again. You came through all right to-day, but it's the kind of stunt a man doesn't get way with twice. But now," he added more lightly, "I'll bet that you're hungry enough to eat nails. Hurry up and wash and get down to the table."

"By the way," said Mrs. Melton, her eyes twinkling, "where are those fish you promised me for supper?"

The boys looked at each other in consternation.

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Bert. "We forgot to bring them."