The branch, under their united weight, bent downward like a bow.

Fortunately, it was oak, and did not break.
Basil was astride, his face turned to the tree and towards his pursuer.
The long snout of the latter was within three feet of his head, and he could feel her warm breath, as with open jaws she stretched forward, snorting fiercely.
At this moment the ring-end of the lasso struck the branch directly between them, passing a few feet over it.

Before it could slip back again, and fall off, the young hunter had grasped it; and with the dexterity of a packer, double-knotted it around the limb.

The next moment, and just as the great claws of the bear were stretched forth to clutch him, he slipped off the branch, and glided down the lasso.
The rope did not reach the ground by at least twenty feet! It was a short one, and part of it had been taken up in the hasty knotting.
Lucien and Francois, in consternation, had observed this from below, as soon as it first hung down.

They had observed it, and prepared themselves accordingly; so that, when Basil reached the end of the rope, he saw his brothers standing below, and holding a large buffalo-skin stretched out between them.