"The noise which had aroused us was made by a rolling stone striking
a rock: and looking up I saw some fifty yards away, not in the
wood, but on the rocky hillside on our side of the ravine, a bear
standing, as though unconscious of our presence, snuffing the
air. As was natural, I seized my rifle, cocked it, and took aim,
unheeding a cry of 'No, no, sahib,' from Rahman. However, I was
not going to miss such a chance as this, and I let fly. The beast
had been standing sideways to me, and as I saw him fall I felt
sure I had hit him in the heart. I gave a shout of triumph, and
was about to climb up, when, from behind the rock on which the bear
had stood, appeared another, growling fiercely; on seeing me, it
at once prepared to come down. Stupidly, being taken by surprise,
and being new at it, I fired at once at its head. The bear gave
a spring, and then--it seemed instantaneous--down it came at
me. Whether it rolled down, or slipped down, or ran down, I don't
know, but it came almost as if it had jumped straight at me.
"'My gun, Rahman,' I shouted, holding out my hand. There was no
answer. I glanced round and found that the scoundrel had bolted.
I had time, and only just time, to take a step backwards, and to
club my rifle, when the brute was upon me. I got one fair blow at
the side of its head, a blow that would have smashed the skull of
any civilized beast into pieces, and which did fortunately break the
brute's jaw; then in an instant he was upon me, and I was fighting
for life. My hunting knife was out, and with my left hand I had the
beast by the throat; while with my right I tried to drive my knife
into its ribs. My bullet had gone through his chest. The impetus
of his charge bad knocked me over, and we rolled on the ground,
he tearing with his claws at my shoulder and arm, I stabbing and
struggling; my great effort being to keep my knees up so as to
protect my body with them from his bind claws. After the first blow
with his paw which laid my shoulder open, I do not think I felt any
special pain whatever. There was a strange faint sensation, and my
whole energy seemed centered in the two ideas--to strike and to
keep my knees up. I knew that I was getting faint, but I was dimly
conscious that his efforts, too, were relaxing. His weight on me
seemed to increase enormously, and the last idea that flashed across
me was that it was a drawn fight.
"The next idea of which I was conscious was that I was being
carried. I seemed to be swinging about, and I thought I was at sea.
Then there was a little jolt and a sense of pain. 'A collision,'
I muttered, and opened my eyes. Beyond the fact that I seemed in
a yellow world--a bright orange yellow--my eyes did not help
me, and I lay vaguely wondering about it all, till the rocking
ceased. There was another bump, and then the yellow world seemed to
come to an end; and as the daylight streamed in upon me I fainted
again. This time, when I awoke to consciousness, things were clearer.
I was stretched by a little stream. A native woman was sprinkling
my face and washing the blood from my wounds; while another, who had
with my own knife cut off my coat and shirt, was tearing the latter
into strips to bandage my wounds. The yellow world was explained.
I was lying on the yellow robe of one of the women. They had tied
the ends together, placed a long stick through them, and carried
me in the bag-like hammock. They nodded to me when they saw I was
conscious, and brought water in a large leaf, and poured it into
my mouth. Then one went away for some time, and came back with some
leaves and bark. These they chewed and put on my wounds, bound them