Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Great Bear of Gurlita Cliff
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carrying away the cow he had killed out of the stall, and
fell upon him with guns and knives. They recaptured
the cow, and destroyed one of his eyes, but
he managed to escape alive.
Yes, old acquaintances were they! The forest king
remembered how they came upon him on another
occasion, just as he and his royal consort and their
children were lying down for their winter’s sleep
in their old castle on Gurlita Cliff. He had escaped,
sweeping aside all that came in his path, and fleeing
without heeding the bullets, but he was lamed
for life by a shot in the thigh, and when he returned
at night to his castle, he found the snow dyed red with
the blood of his royal mate, and the royal children
had been carried away to the dwellings of men, there
to grow up as their servants and friends.
The ground trembled, and the snowdrift covering
the bear-hole shook, as the great bear, the cavaliers’
old enemy, broke out of his lair. Take care,
Fuchs, old bear hunter; take care, Beerencreutz,
colonel and camphio player; take care, Gösta Berling,
hero of a thousand adventures!
Woe to all poets, all dreamers, all lovers ! There
stood Gösta Berling, his finger on the trigger of his
gun, as the bear went straight toward him. Why did
he not shoot? What was he thinking of?
Why did he not send a bullet into the broad
chest. He was standing in the right place to do it,
and the others had not the chance of a shot at the
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