An excerpt from The Last Grizzly:
| The sound Joe had been waiting
for edged into his tuned consciousness over the drumming of their feet and gasping of
their breath. It wasn’t the sound of the bear’s feet nor of its breath as Joe
had thought it might be, but rather it was the even spaced sound of a heavy grunt each
time the bear’s front feet landed on the trail. With deep dread he knew the time had
come. He stepped aside to let Alan pass, and almost fell as he tried to turn and get the
stick into batting position before he could stop his forward motion. And there was the bear, galloping almost upon them, its head level now, mouth agape, tongue lolling to the side. Two more bounds and it would be on him and the pain would start. He briefly wondered if the bear would bite him first or swipe at him with its three inch claws. Probably both, he thought . . . |
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