“And how far away?” asked Jack.
“Not more than four miles—maybe five. But we can make that in about an hour and a half, if we don’t get off the trail.”
“That’s the trouble,” commented Bert. “We can’t see any trail. We are going it absolutely blind!”
And going it blind they certainly were. They were all a bit alarmed now, for they had no shelter for the night, and they had eaten most of their food.
Suddenly, as they tramped along over the snow, there came a crash in the underbrush to one side.
“What’s that?” cried George, nervously.
“That bear——” began Bert, slinging around his gun.
“Don’t shoot!” cried Tom. “It’s our dog come back to us!”
And so it was. The intelligent and lonesome brute had abandoned the bear’s trail, and had come back to join his human friends. He was exhausted from long, hard running.