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.
Chapter 5
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:
“The b’ar! Is he dead?” but catching sight of Esse’s face a gleam of fun lit up his own as he said: “Oh, I remember; you killed him with” — here he seemed to realise that Esse had not come off scot free in the encounter, for in a horrified way he said, raising himself on one elbow, whilst he pointed with the other hand: “Why, Little Missy, you’re wounded. ‘Taint very bad, I hope!”
“No! no, Dick — it’s nothing. He only tore my dress!”
“So I see. The brute! couldn’t he let you alone, anyhow!”
Esse burst out laughing. She had been under such a horrible strain of anxiety and effort that some reaction must come. Dick’s remark, and, moreover, the rueful, angry tone of it, afforded the occasion. There was to her something exquisitely humorous in the idea that they too who had just escaped death — if indeed they had escaped, for their troubles were only beginning — should be only troubled about a torn dress. Dick joined in the laugh, but it was rather through his instinct than from any merriness of heart, for presently his laughter suddenly ceased, and with a groan he fell back. He had not fainted as Esse found when she had flown to his side; it was simply that the pain had overcome him, and after giving him some whiskey from his flask he was somewhat restored. But even in his half swooning state he had been thinking, for he now said:
“Wall, Little Missy, guess ye’ll have to tramp off by yourself, and send down that help to bring me home. You jest pull my knife outer that b’ar an’ find my gun for me if it’s lyin’ anywheres round, an’ put a cup of water by me. Then you jest run off home afore the dark comes on.”
“I’m not going to do anything of the kind! — I’m not going to leave you here alone!”
“Then what in thunder air ye goin’ to do? Air you an’ me to stick here and have a picnic as long as the b’ar meat holds out? No! Little Missy; ye’ll hev to go home, an’ soon, or that prospectin’ party will have to bring on a bran new coffin for this durned leg of mine!”
He winced and almost writhed with pain. In the meantime Esse’s mind was made up and she had commenced action. Pulling from the heart of the grizzly Dick’s bowie knife, though it made her shudder to touch the bloody hilt, she quickly cut several straight sticks and trimmed them roughly. These she placed beside Dick and quietly began to tear the remnant of her dress, the part which she was not wearing, into long strips; she then filled her cup with water and dipped the bandages in it. Dick looked on with silent admiration, for even in the midst of his pain he could admire her swift dexterity; and with a practical man’s instinct, seeing that she was busy with her work, did not distract her, but waited with what patience he could summon. When Esse commenced her efforts to splint the wounded leg Dick helped her, not only with directions, but by shutting his teeth hard and enduring without a groan even her most ignorant efforts. At last the job was done, and Dick spoke again:
“My dear Little Missy, I’m world-wide obliged to ye. Ye saved my life from that old grizzly, and ye’ve doctored me fine! Now, run off home, an’ I’ll be all safe here till ye return.”
“I’m not going to leave you, Dick!” she said decisively. “I’m going to carry you home myself.”
Dick laughed feebly, but this time it wounded the girl to the quick; she blushed up hotly, but cooled at once into a paleness, and her answer came with sudden tears into her eyes:
“You wouldn’t leave me, Dick, if it was I who was hurt — would you, now?”
“Wall, I should smile!” said Dick.
“Then why should I leave you?”
Dick scratched his head; logic and reason failed him as they have failed many a man when arraying them against the strength of a woman’s resolve. Besides, Esse had a very forcible argument on her side; in his helpless condition it was utterly impossible