than thirty feet away and two or three more lunges would bring him to the
water's edge.

Bert's first impulse was to dive into the lake and seek to escape by
swimming. But this he discarded at once. Fast as he was, he knew that
the grizzly could outswim him.

With a quick turn to the left, he plunged into the woods, running like a
deer. The bear lost a second or two in trying to check his momentum. Then
he turned also and went crashing through the underbrush in pursuit.

Had the going been open Bert might have made good his escape. His legs
and wind had once won him a Marathon from the fleetest flyers of the
world. But here conditions were against him. Vines reached out to trip
him. Impenetrable thickets turned him aside. He had to dodge and twist
and squirm his way through the undergrowth.

But the bear had no such handicaps. His great body crashed straight
through all obstacles. The fearful padding of those monstrous feet came
nearer and nearer. Bert's legs worked like piston rods, but to no avail.
The distance between them steadily decreased, and now he could hear the
labored breathing of his enraged pursuer close on his heels. It was like
a hideous nightmare, and gradually the conviction began to force itself
upon him that he was running his last race. Once in the grip of that
monster, nothing could save him from a frightful death.

But he would not give up. The old "never say die" spirit that had carried
him through so many tight places still persisted. On, on, he ran, putting
every ounce of speed and strength in one last spurt. He could feel the
hot breath of the grizzly and the padding feet were terribly near. Then,