"He is retreating!" cried Sam joyfully.
"Wait—don't be too sure," returned Tom, and, firebrands still in hand, they watched until the bear was out of sight and they could hear nothing more of him.
"My, but aint I glad he's gone!" said the youngest Rover, with a sigh of relief.
"So am I glad, Sam. I was almost afraid both of us were doomed to be chewed up."
"What shall we do next?"
"I guess we had better get out—as soon as you've reloaded the gun. Wonder where the ammunition is?"
Both instituted a search, and soon a box was brought to light, containing not only ammunition, but also a big hunting knife.
"I'll appropriate the knife," said Tom. "It's not as good as a gun or pistol, but it is better than nothing."
Thus armed they set forth without further delay, fearful that their enemies might return at any moment to recapture them. As the bear had gone up the gully they went down, and they did not come to a halt until they had placed at least quarter of a mile between themselves and the caves. For some distance they kept on a series of bare rocks, thus leaving no trail behind.
"I reckon we are clear of them for the time being," observed Tom, as he came to a halt. "And that being so, the next question is Where are Dick and Mr. Barrow?"