“Look out there!”

“He’s coming this way!”

“Run for your lives!”

These shouts were mingled with shots from several of the pistols, none of which, however, took effect, for the sudden advance of the wounded bear had disconcerted the aim of the young hunters.

The youths scattered to the right and the left behind the rocks and brushwood, and as the bear came lumbering forward, it looked as if for the time being he would have the place entirely to himself. Then, however, he caught sight of Roger and made a savage leap for the senator’s son.

Fortunately for the youth, the rifle he carried was a repeating weapon, and now he let drive once more, sending a ball along bruin’s flank. But this attack only served to increase the rage of the animal, and with a ferocious snarl he sprang forward and made a pass at Roger with one of his heavy paws.

153Had this blow landed as intended, it is more than likely the senator’s son would have been felled and perhaps seriously hurt. But by a quick backward spring, the young civil engineer dodged the attack. Then he fired again, and this was followed almost simultaneously by discharges from the pistols of Phil and Ben. But all the bullets flew harmlessly over the beast’s head.

“Run, Roger! Run!” yelled the shipowner’s son. “Run, or he’ll knock you down sure and kill you!”

Roger needed no such advice, because he already realized his peril. He turned to retreat, but in his haste tripped over the uneven rocks and went pitching headlong into some nearby brushwood.

It was at this time, when the matter looked exceedingly serious, that Dave came once more to the front. He had succeeded in reloading the shotgun, and now, advancing rapidly, he took careful aim at the bear and fired twice.

The first discharge from the shotgun took the huge beast directly in the neck, and as he made a leap forward, as if to cover the distance that separated him from our hero, the second dose of shot landed in his stomach. He let out a frightful roar of pain and rage, and then pitched forward with a crash on a rock and rolled over and over down into a nearby hollow.

154“Reload as fast as you can, fellows!” ordered Dave. “Don’t take any chances. Neither of those beasts may be dead;” and he started at once to look after his own weapon.

Years before his Uncle Dunston, who, as my old readers know, was a famous hunter, had impressed upon the youth the truth that an unloaded weapon is a very useless affair.

It must be admitted that Roger’s hand shook not a little while he was looking to make sure that his rifle was in condition for further use. Poor Shadow had gone white, and now sat on a flat rock, too weak in the knees to stand up.

“Maybe we had better give the bears some more shots before we go near them,” suggested the former story-teller of Oak Hall, in a voice which sounded strangely unnatural even to himself.

“It wouldn’t do any harm to give them a few shots from the pistols,” answered Dave. “Then we can all say we had a hand in laying them low.” And thereupon those who possessed the smaller weapons proceeded to make sure that the bears should never have a chance to fight again.

“Dave, I’ve got to hand it to you for coming to my assistance,” said Roger warmly, as soon as he had recovered from his scare. “Gracious! I thought sure that bear was going to jump right on me!”

Dave took careful aim at the bear and fired.—Page 153.

155“Dave is the head hunter of this crowd,” announced Phil.

“He takes after his Uncle Dunston when it comes to shooting,” put in Ben. “Both of them can hit the bull’s-eye without half trying.”

“I—I—don’t think I want to do much hunting after this,” was Shadow’s comment. “That is, hunting for big game. I wouldn’t mind going out after rabbits and birds and things like that.”

“Oh, you’ll get used to it after a while, Shadow,” answered Dave. “I know how I felt when I faced my first big game. I had all I could do to steady my nerves.”

“Not such very big bears, when you come to look them over,” said Ben, who was making a close inspection.

“They certainly looked big enough when they stood up on their hind legs and came for us,” answered Phil. “I guess a bear must shrink after he’s dead;” and at this remark there was something of a laugh. Now that the tension had been removed, some of the youths were inclined to be a bit hysterical.

“What are we going to do with the bears?” questioned Phil.

“Can’t we save the skins and the heads?” asked Ben.

“Yes, we can do that,” answered Dave. “I don’t believe the skins are particularly good at this 156time of the year, but you fellows might draw lots for them and take them home as trophies of the occasion.”

On their numerous hunting trips Dave and Roger, as well as Phil, had seen large game skinned and dressed on more than one occasion, and, consequently, the task before them was not an altogether new one. In the outfit they had brought along there was a hunting-knife, and also a good sharp carving-knife, and with these tools, and the aid of the hatchet they had brought along, they set to work to skin both of the bears and cut each head from the rest of the body. It was no easy job, and took much longer than they had anticipated.

“As soon as we have finished we had better make for the construction camp,” said Dave.

“What are you going to do with the bear meat?” asked Roger. “It’s a shame to leave it here.”

“We can cut out some of the best of the steaks, Roger; and then we can hang the rest of the meat up on the limbs of a tree. T............