Dorothy lowered the lever of the Winchester so that he could see it and pumped another cartridge into the barrel.  The half-breed realised the extent of his folly, but saw it was too late to do anything.

“Now stand over in that far corner,” said the girl to him, “or I will shoot you.”

But the cross-eyed one was humility itself, and protested that he could not for all the gold in the bed of the Saskatchewan have lifted a finger to do the dear young Mam’selle any harm.  In his abject deference he was even more nauseous than in his brazen brutality.  He did as he was bid all the same, and the two turned their attention to the unlucky man who was having such a lively time with Bruin.  Dorothy, however, did not forget to keep a sharp eye on the man near her.

Had there not been such tragic possibilities in the temper and strength of the bear, the situation might have been eminently entertaining.  The position of the two principals in the absorbing game of life and death was not an uncommon one.  Bruin stood upright at one corner of the hut and the half-breed stood at another:  each was watching the other intently as a cat and mouse might be expected to do.  The man’s mitted hands rested against the angle of the wall and his legs straddled out on either side so as to be ready to start off in any direction at a moment’s notice.  Whenever the bear made a move the half-breed slightly lowered his body and dug his feet more securely into the soft snow.  They resembled two boys watching each other in a game of French and English.  After standing still for a minute or two and regaining their wind, they would start off to their positions at two other corners.  Sometimes the bear would be unseen by the man, and this state of affairs was generally a very puzzling and unsatisfactory one for the latter, as he never knew from which direction Bruin might not come charging down upon him.

When the two spectators on the roof turned their attention to the two actors, the latter were in the watching attitude, but almost immediately the game of “tag” began again.  The pursued one was evidently in considerable distress; his face matched the colour of his knitted crimson tuque, at the end of which a long blue tassel dangled in a fantastic fashion.  His whole attitude was that of one suffering from extreme physical and nervous tension.  Dorothy’s first impulse was to try and shoot the bear, but owing to the distance and its movements she realised that this would be a matter of considerable difficulty.  Besides, unless the bear-hunted rogue were fool enough to leave the friendly vantage of the hut, it was obvious that he would be quite able to evade the enemy until such time as her father and the others came.  This would serve the useful purpose of keeping him out of mischief and rendering him a source of innocent entertainment to his friend, for it must be admitted that the latter, now that he was safe, or considered himself so, adopted the undignified, not to say unchristian-like, attitude of openly expressing a sporting interest in the proceedings.