They
did not bark, but they were straining against the chain with all their
might, and there stood old Heinrich with his grey broad head flung back,
his ruddy moustache bristling, his thin razorbacked nose hooked over his
lips, and his long leather-gaitered legs firmly planted against the
stones in his strenuous efforts to restrain with both hands the eager
appetite of his dogs for the fight, while he opposed to their attempts to
bound forward the whole weight of his body.
"Back! back!" he shouted to the bear-leader, and the ruffian ran back to
the shelter of a faggot-stack.
Then every face bending over the galleries grew red and hot with the
excitement of the horrid fray, and starting eyes glanced from every nook
and corner.
The bear sat on his haunches gathered together ready for action, his huge
paws uplifted. I could see how he quivered in his rough skin, and his
muzzle seemed to annoy him terribly. All at once the chain was slipped;
at a single leap the hounds cleared the intervening space, and their
sharp fangs were in a moment fixed in both poor Baptiste's ears, whose
heavy paws and long sharp claws hugged each bitter enemy around the neck,
slowly digging into their straining bodies till the blood spurted out in
streams.
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