“There he goes!” exclaimed Jim, a quarter of an hour after this possible complication had been discussed by the youngsters from their different perches.
The bear seemed to have decided that it was useless to hang around the neighborhood, and began moving off in his lumbering fashion. He was attentively watched until he vanished in the dense wood.
“We’re all right now” called Bob.
“Maybe he is trying to fool us,” suggested Tom; “you had better stay where you are awhile longer.”
“Who’s afraid?” defiantly called back Bob, sliding nimbly down the sapling; “you don’t catch me running from a bear again; all I want is a chance to get hold of my gun and load it—Jewhilakens!”
A roar of laughter broke from Jim and Tom, who at that moment caught sight of the brute coming back at a faster rate than he had departed.
Bob was equally quick in descrying his danger, and the manner in which he shinned up the sapling would have surprised a trained athlete, who could not have surpassed it.
“When is the fraud going to leave?” he growled, looking down on the intruder that had stopped directly under him; “I don’t know whether bears are good waiters, but I hope he won’t try to keep us here more than a week.”
Bruin went snuffing around the spot, clawing the guns curiously, gazing up at each lad in turn, and finally starting off once more.
The boys hoped his departure was for good, but you may be sure they did not discount it. When, however, a half-hour went by without his being seen, all felt there was ground for hope.