I am sorry to say it did not, however.

Uttering the curious sound peculiar to grizzlies, the brute made as though it would approach still closer.
The bear was somewhat lean after his long winter's sleep in some hole scooped out of the earth, whither he had retired with a substantial coating of fat upon him, as a protection against the chills of winter.
The nap had gradually reduced the thickness of this protection and now the hungry animal, weary of search for berries and roots, contemplated me with a look which seemed to express that a morsel of something more substantial would not be out of place.
I commenced to retire cautiously, but I had not taken many steps when there came a flash, followed by a sudden report, and I staggered and fell on my knees--shot in the leg.
The bear had accidentally pulled the trigger of my gun, and the bullet intended for him had found instead a billet in poor me.

I tried to staunch the wound with my handkerchief, but the blood flowed freely, and I soon began to feel exhausted.
I felt my knees quivering and giving way beneath me, and a deadly faintness crept over me.

A mist came over my eyes, and I seemed to sink into a deep sleep, the landscape slowly vanishing, and even the big bear standing up before me disappearing in the darkness which enveloped everything.
The rescuing party sent in search discovered me, still breathing, the thick snow into which I had fallen having congealed over my wound and stopped the flow of blood.
The bear had fled without touching me, the report of the rifle having apparently proved too much for his nerves.

He did not live long, however, for the following day he was tracked to his underground home, and there despatched.