Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 250: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

238 The Stampede. | claws that could rend garments and flesh into rib- bons, once they got to work. “It’s all up with me!” he cried. It was in desperation that Karl began to ply his knife as soon as his hand came in contact with a hairy side. Then he, too, received a stunning blow from one of the swinging forepaws of the beast, and measured his length upon the hard stone floor. Half dazed by the concussion, Karl lay there, ex- pecting to feel the fierce embrace of his ferocious enemy. To his surprise, the sounds of conflict appeared to drift to the other side of the cavern. He could hear the feeble growls of Bruin, coupled with fierce, ex- ultant whoops of Little Buckshot, who seemed to be dancing around his exhausted and almost helpless enemy, inflicting a new wound whenever able to do so without coming within dangerous reach of those terrible claws. Karl drew himself together. His first thought was gratitude that he had es- caped so lightly. Then he felt around for his knife, that had been knocked from his hand in the tumble, eager to go to the assistance of his ally. , Ere he could discover the weapon, however, a dreadful stillness had come upon the cavern. Karl was horrified. “Guess that bear’s dead,” he muttered; “but is it all up with Little Buckshot, too?” Eagerly the boy crept around, gathering the still- glowing embers of the late fire together. Then he bent down and blew his breath upon them until at length they burst into a sudden flame that dissipated the darkness and rendered the cavern almost as light as day. With awe and a great fear tugging at his heart, ConniclooOokks.€©