Fenn and Frank had shotguns, and elected to try to bag some wild turkeys or partridges, so they went off to one side, while Bart and Ned, with their rifles, kept together.
Suddenly Bart, after an hour’s tramping in the woods, with never a sight of anything larger than a rabbit, which he would not fire at, came to an abrupt stop. Ned, who was right behind him, halted also.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“What is that over there?” asked Bart, also in a whisper, and he pointed to a black object near some bushes.
“A stump,” replied Ned promptly.
“Do stumps move?” inquired Bart.
“Of course not.”
“Well that one did, so it isn’t a stump. I think it’s a bear.”
Bart’s opinion was unexpectedly confirmed the next moment, for the animal turned and uttered a loud “woof!” as it sniffed at the snow at the foot of the bush, evidently in search of something to eat.
Bart dropped to one knee, and took quick aim. It was his first shot since arriving at camp, and it was one worthy of much care, for bears were none too common to risk missing one.