“Mebbe it is,” replied the tall scout, meekly, for his feelings had been so recently torn by conflicting hopes and fears, that he was in no mood for argument.
“Let’s push forward and see,” suggested Allan.
“Trail seems to lead that way, don’t it?” Thad mentioned, when they had been moving along swiftly for a few minutes.
“Yes, and we’ll soon know the worst, because, unless I’m much mistaken the thing is lying just at the other side of them bushes. They’re thicker here, you see, and we won’t be able to tell what it’s doing till after we get around the same.”
Giraffe had a habit of talking at a lively pace when wishing to keep his heart from betraying his nervousness. It was somewhat on the principle that a boy whistles as loud as he can when passing a country graveyard.
Half a minute later, and in a bunch the four scouts turned a flank movement around the bushes. Step Hen and Giraffe almost dropped with sheer astonishment, and had to actually sustain each other. No wonder, when before them they saw the motionless form of a huge bear, that had evidently been shot in a dozen places.
CHAPTER XX.
FINDING OUT HOW BUMPUS DID IT.
“Well, what d’ye think of that?” Giraffe demanded, as, with his comrades, he presently hurried forward to examine the dead bear.
“I said Bumpus could do it, didn’t I?” questioned Step Hen. “Why, with the great run of luck he’s camping alongside now, that pard of ours could go into the lion and elephant country of Africa, and knock over more old tuskers and yellow manes than you could shake a stick at.”
“But how d’ye know he did this?” asked Giraffe, as a new doubt assailed him.