There was but one path through this dark strip of forest over which the wagon could be drawn, and it led through a low piece of ground that was wet and marshy. Upon the soft earth of the path Balser soon noticed the long, broad tracks of a bear, and the dogs at once began to bark and plunge in their harness. The tracks appeared to Balser to be an hour old, so he quieted the dogs, but did not release them from the wagon as he should have done. The boys went forward, regardless of the warning bear tracks, and the dogs and bears, drawing the wagon, followed closely at their heels. As they proceeded the bear tracks became fresher, and Balser began to grow somewhat fearful. Jim had become frightened, and had taken a position at the rear of the wagon to give a helping hand by pushing at the load. He said he could push better than he could pull anyway.
After the little party had got well into the darkest part of the forest, the dogs began to show such evident signs of uneasiness that Balser grasped his gun, and held it in readiness, prepared for a fight, should one become necessary.
The ground had been frozen earlier in the day, but it had thawed, and the path was slippery. Balser, who was walking a short distance ahead of the train, as a sort of advance guard, suddenly stopped and held up his hand warningly to Jim; for right ahead of him in the path stood a huge bear, with its head turned backward, looking inquiringly in the direction of the boys, Jim at once stopped the team. The dogs, of course, were dancing with impatience to be released from the harness, and even the dull-witted bears seemed to realize that something was wrong.
“It’s running away,” said Balser. “It’s not safe to shoot at it from behind. I might wound it, and then we should be the ones to run. What shall we do?”
“Let it run,” answered Jim, quickly. “I don’t like to run with a bear after me, anyway. If you’re going to shoot, I’ll run now so as to get a good start.”
“No, you don’t! You stand right where you are, and take care of the team. If you move a foot, I’ll lick you,” answered Balser, as he moved cautiously ahead in the direction of the retreating bear.
Jim was frozen by fear to the spot upon which he stood, as Balser walked out of sight. In a moment he again heard Balser speak, and then he heard a loud, deep growl.
The dogs barked and plunged; the cubs whined and gave forth savage little baby-bear growls, half whines, for they were only learning to growl. Jim began to weep and to scream. Balser, who had disappeared from sight around a curve in the path, cried out:—
“Let the dogs loose, for goodness’ sake, Jim! It’s after me.”
The dogs seemed to understand Balser’s cry better than Jim did; for they barked and plunged more violently than ever in their harness. Jim seemed dazed, and could not, or at least did not, unharness the dogs. Then it was that the good dog sense of old Prince showed itself. Instead of waiting for help from Jim, who he saw had lost his wits, the good dog began to gnaw at the leather harness which held him and Tige to the wagon, and in a short time the dogs were freed from the wagon, though still tied to each other.