Bram Stoker - Bram Stoker - The Complete Novels

It seemed to Esse that all at once Dick lay on the ground, maimed and bleeding, with the great bulk of the dead grizzly pinning him down.

She rushed over to him, and, although the sight of the blood unnerved her for a moment, bent over to help him. Dick lay on his side, with the back of the bear towards his head, and she could see by the way that one of his legs — which stuck out from under the carcase — was twisted, that it must be broken. She seized hold of the bear’s leg to try to drag it off, but as she tugged at it unavailingly Dick groaned and spoke to her:

“Hold hard, Little Missy! The varmint has broke my leg, an’ is lyin’ on it; but don’t bother about it yet a minute. We’ll have some work to do first! The old gentleman was the one I was followin’, an’ he ain’t fur off. When he sees that I’ve sliced up his missis he’ll come in on the tear, and we’ve got to look out. Try if you can find my rifle. The b’ar knocked it out of my hand with her first come on, and I fear it’s busted!”

Esse looked and found the rifle; but it was all destroyed, the stock beaten off, and the barrel bent. Dick groaned.

“Look here, Little Missy, you can’t do no good here. You trot off home, and tell Le Maistre to get some of the Indians to come along here with a blanket and a pole. Let them bring their weppins, for if the old gentleman don’t get me before they come, we’ll get him, sure.”

“Go, and leave you alone!” said Esse indignantly, “and you wounded and tied down like that? Not me! What do you take me for?”

“By gum! I take you for a plucky little girl, anyhow; an’ I shan’t never forget it! But what can you do? What can I do, with my weppins gone — for this young lady has got my knife in her, an’ is lyin’ on it! I can’t stir — hold on! What’s that?”

He raised his hand warningly, and then said in an agonised whisper:

“For God A’mighty’s sake, Little Missy, clear out that way!” and he pointed to one side of the clearing; “and if ever ye dumb a tree in your life, try to do so now! There’s the male b’ar on the track. Quick! quick! here he comes!”

At that instant there was a fierce growling, the underbush crackled as if violently forced aside, and an enormous grizzly bear plunged into the glade. A grizzly bear is at all times a sight to inspire terror, but when inflamed to do battle he is more than ever appalling. Esse stood a moment paralysed, till she heard Dick’s quick shout to her:

“Get out your gun, Little Missy — quick! It’s the only chance now!”

Esse looked helplessly to where her revolver was hung on the cross arm of her easel; but it was as close to the bear as it was to her, and she knew that before she could reach it the fierce animal, which was even now rearing on its hind legs to plunge, would be down upon her. He had smelled the blood, and had seen the body of his mate, and was full of fury. In her helplessness she had been unconsciously twisting her pocket-handkerchief into a ball in her usual habit, and as the bear dashed forward, she instinctively threw it at him, throwing it in that high, helpless, over-arm fashion which is woman’s method. The tiny ball struck him between the eyes, and opening out with the impact, just as a slight puff of wind swept through the glade, for an instant covered his face. He stopped and put up a great paw to tear it down, and as he did so, Esse heard a chuckle from Dick across the glade. This, together with the hiding of the baleful eyes, which seemed to have in some way fascinated her, recalled her to herself; to her dreadful position and Dick’s; to the necessity for instant action. With a bound she jumped to the easel and seized her revolver, and as the bear, who had now cleared his eyes, hurled his vast body towards her, she fired once, twice, at random, with only a vague intent of aiming at him, but without marking any special spot. The good fortune which now and again waits on novices seemed to have guided her aim, for one of the baleful eyes seemed on the instant to become obliterated, and then to spout out blood. The grizzly quivered, and, whirling his great paws like the flying sails of a windmill, fell over towards her in a heap. The sharp claws of one of the fore-paws, just grazing her flesh, tore through her dress, and rent it in strips, almost tearing it from her body.

For an instant she gazed at the fallen monster in a sort of stupefaction. From this she was aroused by a wild laugh from Dick; and as she turned to him she saw him slapping the hind quarters of the great carcase of the she-bear as he used to slap his thigh, and heard him say:

“Durn my cats, if Little Missy hain’t killed the biggest grizzly on the Pacific Slope with her nose-rag!”

As she looked however, his voice faltered; and as she ran towards him she saw his face grow deadly pale, as flesh does under ether spray, and he sank back seemingly as dead as the mighty brute that lay over him.

Esse rushed wildly over to Dick, and, kneeling down by him, raised his head and laid it on her knee.

As she did so she became aware for the first time of the ravages which the bear had made with her clothing, and a hot blush swept over her. In the intensity of her shame it did not trouble her to see that the bear’s claws had in that last death-stroke actually cut her flesh, and that her stocking — the remnant of it — was running with blood. She looked despairingly round for a moment in the vague hope of help, but seeing that there was none she braced herself for the superlative efforts which had now to be made. Her reason and even her emotion responded to the call, and she set about her work with a business-like precision. First she felt Dick’s heart, and distinguishing its beat, though very faint, knew that he still lived. This made her efforts of feverish intensity, and she worked with an unconscious power and purpose which those who knew her would never have suspected.

First she threw the remnants of her torn dress around her and pinned them together; this was just enough to protect her modesty and did not impede her efforts. Then she set herself to draw the body of the great she-bear from Dick’s wounded leg. She knew that it must be taken away in the direction of head to feet so as not to lacerate the flesh with the broken bones or to rub the pieces together. If she could but succeed in removing either the body from him, or him from underneath the body, without further injury to the broken leg, all might be well — at least the smallest amount of harm would be done. So she set herself to examine the situation, and as her eye lit on the bent barrel of the rifle she straightway conceived a plan. She buried one end of it in the ground, close to Dick’s chest, leaving the other sloping up the brute’s great side — this was made with a rough calculation of the weight, so that the carcase could not topple sideways. Then she got a strong branch and, using it as a lever, began to try to lift the bear little by little. At first she could not stir the carcase, but by getting each time the lever further under she felt at last that it moved. Then, bending her knees, she put the branch on her shoulder, and, using all her strength, pushed upwards. The weight rose, and the gun-barrel, slipping down the side, acted as a strut and prevented it falling back. With joy Esse looking down saw that Dick’s legs were free; running to his head she took him from behind under the armpits and dragged him safely away. As it was, there had not been a moment to lose, for the weight of the bear was slowly sinking the gun-barrel into the soft ground and a few seconds later the carcase sank back to its old place. But Dick was free. Then she ran and filled her cup with water from the little rill that murmured over the rock in the glade, and raising Dick’s head began to try to restore him to consciousness. It was but the consequence of her womanhood that in the midst of her ministrations she stooped and kissed the brow, pale under its nut-brown skin, and never thought of blushing as she did so. The change of posture, and the relief from the horrible pressure on his wounded leg, seemed to aid in restoring him to consciousness, and after a minute or two of her bathing his temples, and trying to force a few drops of water into his mouth, he opened his eyes in a dull, dazed way and looked inquiringly round him. The first manifestation of instinct was that of the hunter; that of the man came later. He said in a quick, eager voice: