It was decision time. The animal would soon be on him. Should he find a tree to climb or confront the beast? Neither prospect appealed to him but if he kept running it would add to the bloodlust of the animal. A quick survey of the available trees made the decision for him. He whipped off his backpack and spun around to face his adversary. The beast was some fifty feet away trotting toward him. John made himself as large as possible, spreading his arms and legs, holding his backpack above his head. The bear slowed down and stopped twenty feet from him. He held his ground although a trickle of urine flowed down his leg. The bear stood up and sniffed the air. It dropped down on all fours wheeling its head from side to side, snaring. John cringed when he saw the long yellow teeth, saliva dripping from them. The bear reared, its front paws coming six inches off the ground. It slammed them down, pushing earth and forest debris forward. It snarled, more a grunt than anything, each time it landed. It did it rapidly, several times until it had quite a pile in front of it. Then it snarled and roared, head cocked to the side, jowls flapping and saliva spraying. John was visibly quivering, and the remainder of his bladder emptied. It took all his remaining strength to stay upright. With one final snort, the bear turned and headed back the way it came.
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