The flames
grew unbearable. The Bear and man each took a hasty breath and bobbed
below the surface, each wondering, according to his intelligence, what
the other would do. In half a minute both came up again, each relieved
to find the other no nearer. Each tried to keep his nose and one eye
above the water. But the fire was raging hot; they had to dip under
and stay as long as possible.
The roaring of the flame was like a hurricane. A huge pine tree came
crashing down across the pool; it barely missed the man. The splash of
water quenched the blazes for the most part, but it gave off such a
heat that he had to move--a little nearer to the Bear. Another fell at
an angle, killing a coyote, and crossing the first tree. They blazed
fiercely at their junction, and the Bear edged from it a little nearer
the man. Now they were within touching distance. His useless gun was
lying in shallow water near shore, but the man had his knife ready,
ready for self-defense. It was not needed; the fiery power had
proclaimed a peace. Bobbing up and dodging under, keeping a nose in
the air and an eye on his foe, each spent an hour or more. The red
hurricane passed on. The smoke was bad in the woods, but no longer
intolerable, and as the Bear straightened up in the pool to move away
into shallower water and off into the woods, the man got a glimpse of
red blood streaming from the shaggy back and dyeing the pool.
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