“What a monster!” he gasped.

“Blaze away!” urged Wabi.  “It’s four hundred yards if it’s a foot!  Aim for the top of his back and you’ll bring him!”

Suiting action to his words he fired the two remaining shots in his rifle, and as he slipped in fresh cartridges Rod continued the long-range fusillade.  His first and second shots produced no effect.  At his third the running animal paused for a moment and looked down at them, and the young Hunter seized his opportunity to take a careful aim.  At the report of his gun the bear gave a quick lunge forward, half-fell among the rocks, and then was off again.

“You hit him!” shouted Wabi, setting off on a dead run between the spruce and the mountain.

For a few brief moments Rod studied the situation as he reloaded.  The bear was rapidly nearing the summit of the ridge.  By, swift running Wabigoon would have another fair shot before the animal got out of range.  If that shot were a miss they would lose their game.  In a flash he discerned a break in the mountain.  If he could make that, and the bear turned in his direction—­

Without further thought he ran toward the break.  He heard the sharp reports of Wabi’s rifle behind him, but didn’t stop to see the effect of the fire.  If it was another miss—­every second counted.  The cut in the mountain was clear.  Breathlessly he dashed through it and stopped on the opposite side, his eyes eagerly scanning the rock-strewn ridge.  He made no attempt to suppress the exclamation of joy that came to his lips when, fully eight hundred yards away, he discerned the bear coming down the side of the mountain, and in his direction.  Crouching behind a huge boulder Rod waited.  Seven hundred yards, six hundred, five hundred, and the bear turned, this time striking into the edge of the plain.  The animal was traveling slowly, partly stopping in his flight now and then, and Rod knew that he was badly wounded.  It was soon evident that the course being taken by the game would bring it no nearer, and the young hunter leveled his rifle.

Five hundred yards, more than a quarter of a mile!

This was desperate shooting, shooting that sent a strange thrill through Roderick Drew.  The magnificent weapon in his hands was equal to the task.  It would kill easily at that distance.  But would he fail?  He was confident that his first shot went high.  His second had no effect.  To his third there came the sharp response of a fourth from the top of the mountain.  Wabigoon had reached the summit, and was firing at six hundred yards!

The bear stopped.  With deadly precision Rod now took aim at the motionless animal.  An instant after he had fired a wild shout burst from his throat, and was answered by Wabigoon’s joyful yell from the mountain.  It was a wonderful shot, and the bear was down!

The animal was dead when the triumphant young hunters reached its side.  It was some time before either of them spoke.  Panting from their exertions, both looked down in silence upon the huge beast at their feet.  That he had made a remarkable kill Rod could see by the look of wonder in his companion’s face.  They were still mutely regarding the dead animal when Mukoki came through the break in the ridge and hurried toward them.  His face, too, became filled with amazement when he saw the bear.