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The Seneschal, taking both hands from the horn, spread them out

like a cross; the horn fell, and swung on his leather belt. The

Seneschal, his face swollen and shining, and his eyes uplifted,

stood as if inspired, catching with his ear the last expiring

tones. But meanwhile thousands of plaudits thundered forth,

thousands of congratulations and shouts of vivat.

They gradually became quiet, and the eyes of the throng were

turned on the huge, fresh corpse of the bear. He lay besprinkled

with blood and pierced with bullets; his breast was plunged into

the thick, matted grass; his paws were spread out before him like

a cross; he still breathed, but he poured forth a stream of blood

through his nostrils; his eyes were still open, but he did not

move his head. The Chamberlain's bulldogs held him beneath the

ears; on the left side hung Strapczyna; on the right Sprawnik,

choking his throat, sucked out the black blood.