Good gracious, what was that?  The horses were either struggling or fighting in their snow shelters.  Then one with a frightened neigh broke from its halter and dashed into the road, only to be plunged snorting and helpless into the drifts.  Then the other followed.  How silly!  Something had frightened them.  Perhaps only a rabbit or a mole; horses were such absurdly nervous creatures!  However, it is just as well; somebody would see them or hear them,—­that neigh was quite human and awful,—­and they would hurry down to see what was the matter.  She couldn’t be expected to get out and look after the horses in the snow.  Anyhow, she wouldn’t!  She was a good deal safer where she was; it might have been rats or mice about that frightened them!  Goodness!

She was still watching with curious wonder the continued fright of the animals, when suddenly she felt the wagon half bumped, half lifted from behind.  It was such a lazy, deliberate movement that for a moment she thought it came from the party, who had returned noiselessly with the runners.  She scrambled over to the back seat, unbuttoned the leather curtain, lifted it, but nothing was to be seen.  Consequently, with feminine quickness, she said, “I see you perfectly, Mr. Waterhouse—­don’t be silly!” But at this moment there was another shock to the wagon, and from beneath it arose what at first seemed to her to be an uplifting of the drift itself, but, as the snow was shaken away from its heavy bulk, proved to be the enormous head and shoulders of a bear!

Yet even then she was not Wholly frightened, for the snout that confronted her had a feeble inoffensiveness; the small eyes were bright with an eager, almost childish curiosity rather than a savage ardor, and the whole attitude of the creature lifted upon its hind legs was circus-like and ludicrous rather than aggressive.  She was enabled to say with some dignity, “Go away!  Shoo!” and to wave her luncheon basket at it with exemplary firmness.  But here the creature laid one paw on the back seat as if to steady itself, with the singular effect of collapsing the whole side of the wagon, and then opened its mouth as if in some sort of inarticulate reply.  But the revelation of its red tongue, its glistening teeth, and, above all, the hot, suggestive fume of its breath, brought the first scream from the lips of Miss Amy.  It was real and convincing; the horses joined in it; the three screamed together!  The bear hesitated for an instant, then, catching sight of the honey-pot on the front seat, which the shrinking-back of the young girl had disclosed, he slowly reached forward his other paw and attempted to grasp it.  This exceedingly simple movement, however, at once doubled up the front seat, sent the honey-pot a dozen feet into the air, and dropped Miss Amy upon her knees in the bed of the wagon.  The combined mental and physical shock was too much for her; she instantly and sincerely fainted; the last thing in her ears amidst this wreck of matter being the “wheep” of a bullet and the sharp crack of a rifle.