“What a grand—oh, what a sublime spectacle!” murmured Spouter, who was standing up in the stern of the rowboat looking around. “What a picture for a painter! Can’t you see what wonderful water colors an artist could paint here? Just think of the inspiration he could get from yonder pretty inlet with those stately trees and those beautiful overhanging bushes. And then—Great Scott, boys, look!”
Spouter’s flowery oration came to a sudden close, and, giving a gasp, he pointed up the cove to where a series of rocks jutted out into the water. On the rocks was a huge form which suddenly came up on its hind legs the better to get a view of what was beyond.
“It’s a bear! A big black bear!” ejaculated Fred.
“A bear! A bear!” was the cry, and all of the boys fairly glued their eyes on the bear that still remained reared on its hind legs looking out toward the lake.
“Oh, what a shot!” murmured Jack. “If only we had a gun!”
“And we didn’t even bring a pistol!” groaned Fred.
“Nor a camera,” put in Spouter. “Talk about a picture! Wouldn’t it be a dandy?”
So far the bear had not seen the rowboat nor the boys. But now the gaze of the big creature suddenly shifted just as Randy and Fred dropped their oars into the water to row closer. There was a sudden snort of astonishment. The bear came down on all fours and in a second more the creature had leaped from the rocks and plunged out of sight into the brushwood behind.
“He’s gone!”
“Wasn’t he a big one?”