"Perhaps so. It would depend on what the war was about. I've got no use for a fellow who stays at home when his duty is at the front—especially if he's a young man, and hasn't a family depending upon him."
"Well, I agree with you on that, and I should certainly have joined the army myself if I hadn't been so crippled. As you say, if—What's the matter?"
"Wait a minute, and stop talking," answered Dave in a whisper. "These tracks look pretty fresh to me, and if that's so, that bear can't be very far off."
They had covered a good half mile since bringing down the deer. The trail led up to the top of a small hill, covered with a stunted growth of ash and pines, with here and there a dense clump of bushes. On the other side of the hill was a series of rocks, leading down into a small ravine, where, in the summer time, flowed a tiny brook, but which was now partly filled with ice and snow. A stiff wind was blowing, and it pierced them through and through when they gained the summit of the rise.
"Phew! this is cold!" murmured Rodney, who had spent many winters by the fireside in his easy chair. "I suppose you don't mind it, but it cuts me like a knife."
"Come, we'll get behind yonder rocks," answered Dave. "Don't make any noise after this."
"Do you see the bear?"
"Not yet. But I feel certain he can't be far away. Such rocks as these are just the place for a bear's den. We don't want to—Hark!"
Dave broke off, as a distant rifle shot reached their ears. Thus was quickly followed by another, and then all became as quiet as before.
"What do you make of that?" questioned Rodney.