Another projection was within reach; he gained it, and in a few seconds he stood upon a ledge about twenty feet up the cliff, where he had just room to plant his feet firmly.
Without waiting to look behind, he seized his powder-horn and loaded one barrel of his rifle; and well was it for him that his early training had fitted him to do this with rapidity, for the bear dashed up the precipice after him at once.

The first time it missed its hold, and fell back with a savage growl; but on the second attempt it sunk its long claws into the fissures between the rocks, and ascended steadily till within a foot of the place where Dick stood.
At this moment Crusoe's obedience gave way before a sense of Dick's danger.

Uttering one of his lion-like roars, he rushed up the precipice with such violence that, although naturally unable to climb, he reached and seized the bear's flank, despite his master's stern order to "keep back," and in a moment the two rolled down the face of the rock together, just as Dick completed loading.
Knowing that one stroke of the bear's paw would be certain death to his poor dog, Dick leaped from his perch, and with one bound reached the ground at the same moment with the struggling animals, and close beside them, and, before they had ceased rolling, he placed the muzzle of his rifle into the bear's ear, and blew out its brains.
Crusoe, strange to say, escaped with only one scratch on the side.

It was a deep one, but not dangerous, and gave him but little pain at the time, although it caused him many a smart for some weeks after.
Thus happily ended Dick's first encounter with a grizzly bear; and although, in the course of his wild life, he shot many specimens of "Caleb," he used to say that "he an' pup were never so near goin' under as on the day he dropped _that_ bar!" Having refreshed himself with a long draught from a neighbouring rivulet, and washed Crusoe's wound, Dick skinned the bear on the spot.
"We chawed him up that time, didn't we, pup ?" said Dick, with a smile of satisfaction, as he surveyed his prize.
Crusoe looked up and assented to this.
"Gave us a hard tussle, though; very nigh sent us both under, didn't he, pup ?" Crusoe agreed entirely, and, as if the remark reminded him of honourable scars, he licked his wound.
"Ah, pup!" cried Dick, sympathetically, "does't hurt ye, eh, poor dog ?" Hurt him?
such a question! No, he should think not; better ask if that leap from the precipice hurt yourself.
So Crusoe might have said, but he didn't; he took no notice of the remark whatever.
"We'll cut him up now, pup," continued Dick.

"The skin'll make a splendid bed for you an' me o' nights, and a saddle for Charlie." Dick cut out all the claws of the bear by the roots, and spent the remainder of that night in cleaning them and stringing them on a strip of leather to form a necklace.