"Bang!"

Tad had aimed the heavy revolver and pulled the trigger.

Instantly the pony went up into the air again and the lad gripped
its sides with his legs, giving a gentle pressure with the spurs.

"Whoa, Pink-eye! I hit Mm, I did. I aimed for his head, but I must
have merely grazed it. I wish I could kill the brute and put him out
of his misery," said the lad more concerned for the suffering animal
before him than for his own safety.

No sooner had he fired the first shot, than the bear sprang to its
feet and sped away up a steep bank. Tad noticed that the bear's
rolling had extinguished some of the fire, but he knew that it was
still burrowing in the beast's fur, causing him great agony.

"I am too far away to hit him. I've got to get closer," decided the
boy. "Pink-eye, do you think you can make that climb?"

The pony shook its head and rattled the bits in its mouth.

"All right, old chap, try it."

A cluck and a gentle slap on the broncho's flanks sent him straight
for the steep bank. At first his feet slipped under him; he
stumbled, righted himself and digging in the slender hoofs fairly
lifted himself up and up. In the meantime Mr. Bruin was making
better progress. He seemed unable to escape from the fire, but he