When the boys recovered from the shock, they found themselves under the side of a large sloping rock. In front of them was the snowbank that had probably saved each from a broken neck. Behind them was a rough opening, leading partly between and partly under the rock.
“Are yo—you all—all right?” panted Joe, when he could catch his breath.
“I—I reck—reckon so,” was the answer. “I—I aint sure yet,” and Harry shook himself to find out if any bones were broken.
“It looks to me as if the bear was hunting us instead of us hunting the bear,” went on Joe grimly.
“Do you see anything of him now?”
“No.”
Harry had lost his gun in the snow, and it took a minute to find this and put on a fresh priming. Then both kept a sharp lookout for the bear, but the animal did not appear.
“What shall we do next?” asked Joe, rather blankly.
“Well, one thing is certain, Joe, we can’t stay down here all day.”
“Do you think the bear is up there above us?”