He fired, and the bear giving
a loud grunt, as the bullet struck, rushed forward at a gallop
into a laurel thicket. Roosevelt paused at the edge of the thicket
and peered within, trying to see the bear, but knowing too much
about them to go into the brush where he was.
When I was at the narrowest part of the thicket, he suddenly left
it, directly opposite, and then wheeled and stood broadside to me
on the hillside, a little above. He turned his head stiffly
towards me; scarlet strings of froth hung from his lips; his eyes
burned like embers in the gloom.
I held true, aiming behind the shoulder, and my bullet shattered
the point or lower end of his heart, taking out a big nick.
Instantly the great bear turned with a harsh roar of fury and
challenge, blowing the bloody foam from his mouth, so that I saw
the gleam of his white fangs; and then he charged straight at me,
crashing and bounding through the laurel bushes, so that it was
hard to aim. I waited until he came to a fallen tree, raking him
as he topped it with a ball, which entered his chest and went
through the cavity of his body, but he neither swerved nor
flinched, and at the moment I did not know that I had struck him.
He came steadily on, and in another second was almost upon me. I
fired for his forehead, but my bullet went low, entering his open
mouth, smashing his lower jaw and going into the neck.
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