By now the bear had its teeth fixed in Steinar's shoulder, or, rather, in his leathern garment, and was dragging him from under the tree.

When it saw me it reared itself up again, lifting Steinar and holding him to its breast with one paw.

I went mad at the sight, and charged it, driving my spear deep into its throat.

With its other paw it struck the weapon from my hand, shivering the shaft.

There it stood, towering over us like a white pillar, and roared with pain and fury, Steinar still pressed against it, Ragnar and I helpless.
"He's sped!" gasped Ragnar.
I thought for a flash of time, and--oh! well do I remember that moment: the huge beast foaming at the jaws and Steinar held to its breast as a little girl holds a doll; the still, snow-laden trees, on the top of one of which sat a small bird spreading its tail in jerks; the red light of evening, and about us the great silences of the sky above and of the lonely forest beneath.