“Well, he’ll have to beat us,” said Rob, stoutly.
“Alex,” inquired Jesse, after a time, “how many bear did you ever see on this river in one day?”
“I wouldn’t like to say,” answered Alex, “for we don’t always count them. I’m told that one of our passengers counted twenty-eight in one afternoon right on this part of the river where we are now. I’ve often seen a dozen a day, I should say.”
“You’re joking about that, Alex!” said Rob.
“Wait and see—I may show you pretty soon,” was the answer.
The boys, always ready enough when there was game to be seen, secured their rifles and took their stand at the front rail of the cabin-deck, ready for anything which might appear.
“I don’t see how you can shoot off this boat,” said Jesse, trying to sight his rifle. “It wobbles all the time when the engine goes.”
Alex gave him a little advice. “I think you’ll find it better to stand with your feet pretty close together,” said he, “and keep your hands as close together as you can on your rifle, too. Then, when you catch sight of your mark as you swing by, pull, and don’t try to hold dead on.”
For some time they saw nothing, and, leaning their rifles against the cabin walls, were talking about something else, when all at once they heard the whistle of the steamer boom out above them. At about the same time, one of the deck-hands at the bow deck below picked up a piece of plank and began to beat loudly with it upon the side structure of the boat.
“What’s the matter?” asked Rob. “Has everybody gone crazy, Alex?”