“I agree with Tom,” added Jim, glancing furtively around, as though he expected to see the dreadful beast rush out of the woods after them.
“You’re a fine set of hunters, aint you?” sneered Bob; “after coming out to hunt game you want to run when you strike the trail of the very creature you’re looking for.”
“I aint looking for bears,” said Tom, “I haven’t lost any.”
“And besides,” added Jim, “there isn’t any fallen tree here where we can crawl under to get out of the way.”
“But there’s plenty of trees which you can climb—there he comes now!”
Tom and Jim each glanced affrightedly around, not knowing which way to run to escape the dreaded brute.
But it was a joke of Bob’s, and he made the woods ring with his laughter, while, as may be supposed, the others were in no amiable mood.
“I don’t see any fun in that sort of thing,” growled Tom.
“You may do like the boy in the fable, who shouted ‘Wolf!’ once too often,” added Jim, ashamed of his weakness.
The next instant Tom Wagstaff shouted: “There he comes and no mistake!”