Yet his spirit was not daunted; for while the canine assailants he had withstood so often were bathing preparatory for a renewal of the conflict, Boone and Glenn, who had approached the immediate vicinity, fired, and Bruin, echoing the howl of death as the bullets entered his body, turned his eyes reproachfully towards the men for an instant, and then, with a growl of convulsed, expiring rage, plunged into the water, and, seizing the largest cur, crushed him to death.  Ringwood and Jowler, whose sagacity had hitherto led them to keep in some measure aloof, knowing their efforts would be unavailing against so powerful an enemy without the fatal aim of their master, now sprang forward to the rescue, both seizing the prostrate foe by the throat.  But he could not be made to relinquish his victim, nor did he make resistance.  Boone, advancing at the head of the hunters, (all of whom, with the exception of Joe and Sneak, being there assembled,) with some difficulty prevented his companions from discharging their guns at the dark mass before them.  He struck up several of their guns as they were endeavouring to aim at the now motionless bear, fearing that his hounds might suffer by their fire, and stooping down, whence he could distinctly see the pale gums and tongue, as his hounds grappled the neck of the animal, announced the death of Bruin, and the termination of the hunt.  The hounds soon abandoned their inanimate victim, and its sinewy limbs relaxing, the devoted cur rolled out a lifeless body.

“How like you this specimen of our wild sports?” inquired Boone, turning to Glenn, as the rest proceeded to skin and dress the bear preparatory for its conveyance to the camp.

“It is exciting, if not terrific and cruel,” replied Glenn, musing.

“None could be more eager than yourself in the chase,’ said Boone.

“True,” replied Glenn; “and notwithstanding the uninitiated may for an instant revolt at the spilling of blood, yet the chase has ever been considered the noblest and the most innocent of sports.  The animals hunted are often an evil while running at large, being destructive or dangerous; but even if they were harmless in their nature, they are still necessary or desirable for the support or comfort of man.  Blood of a similar value is spilt everywhere without the least compunction.  The knife daily pierces the neck of the swine, and the kitchen wench wrings off the head of the fowl while she hums a ditty.  This is far better than hunting down our own species on the battle-field, or ruining and being ruined at the gaming-table.  I think I shall be content in this region.”

“And you will no doubt be an expert hunter, if I have any judgment in such matters,” replied Boone.

“I wonder that Joe has not yet made his appearance,” remarked Glenn, approaching the bear; “I expected ere this to have seen him triumphing over his fallen enemy.”

“What kind of a gun had he?” inquired Boone.