“Sure,” said Moise, “I’ll tol’ those boy he’ll shoot those bear two tam, once in the front an’ once in the back. With those rifle, he’ll not go far. To-morrow we’ll catch heem easy.”
“He was a big bear, too,” said Rob, “although not as big as our grizzly—just a black bear, that’s all. I don’t like to cripple any animal and then lose it.”
“I don’t think we’ll lose this one,” said Alex, reassuringly.
The judgment of the old hunters proved to be correct, for on the next day, when all hands dropped down the river to the point where Rob had shot at the bear, it was not five minutes before they found the trail where a considerable amount of blood showed that the bear had been badly wounded. At once they began to follow this trail back into the high country away from the river.
Alex did not ask any questions, and there was little talk between him and Moise. Moise, however, took the lead on the trail. Alex did not even carry his rifle, but loitered along, picking berries and enjoying himself, after his own fashion.
“Keep close up to Moise, young gentlemen,” he said. “This bear, although only a black bear, is apt to be very ugly if you find him still alive. If he comes for you, kill him quick. I doubt, however, very much whether he will be alive when we come up with him.”
“How do you know about that, Alex?” demanded John.
“It’s our business to know about such things,” answered Alex, smiling.
All the boys now could see where the bear had scrambled up the bank, and where it had gone through the bushes on its way to the forest, leaving a plain blood trail on the ground.
“Moise will lead on the trail,” said Alex. “He’s more Injun than I am. In some ways I can beat him, in others he can beat me. He is one of the best trailers on the river.”