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Rh bear dropped down once more and eyed them in a mediativemeditative [sic] way.

"He is making up his mind about the next move," said Tom. "I'll try him with something new." And at the risk of burning his hand, he picked up some small brushwood which was blazing fiercely and threw it at their enemy.

The effect was as surprising as it was gratifying. The burning brands struck the beast fairly on the nose, causing him to leap back in terror. Then he uttered a grunt of dissatisfaction, turned, and sped, with clumsy swiftness, up the gully and into the forest beyond.

"He is retreating!" cried Sam joyfully.

"Wait—don't be too sure," returned Tom, and, firebrands still in hand, they watched until the bear was out of sight and they could hear nothing more of him.

"My, but aint I glad he's gone! " said the youngest Rover, with a sigh of relief.

"So am I glad, Sam. I was almost afraid both of us were doomed to be chewed up."

"What shall we do next?"

"I guess we had better get out—as soon as you've loaded the gun. Wonder where the ammunition is?"

Both instituted a search, and soon a box was brought to light, containing not only ammunition, but also a big hunting knife.