Then he saw her raise another pistol.

The wounded bear lunged heavily on its chain--once--twice--in a devilish rage, and as Christine prepared to fire, snapped the staple loose and sprang forward.
At the same moment Castine threw himself in front of the girl, and caught the onward rush.

Calling the beast by its name, he grappled with it.

They were man and servant no longer, but two animals fighting for their lives.

Castine drew out his knife, as the bear, raised on its hind legs, crushed him in its immense arms, and still calling, half crazily, "Michael! Michael! down, Michael!" he plunged the knife twice in the beast's side.
The bear's teeth fastened in his shoulder; the horrible pressure of its arms was turning his face black; he felt death coming, when another pistol shot rang out close to his own head, and his breath suddenly came back.