"I can't," cried Tad.
"Why can't you? I will get them myself."
"They are all in that tent there with the bear," groaned Tad.
"There's a box of shells in there, too," added Walter. "I put it there myself."
"Then, indeed, we had better take to the trees," decided Professor
Zepplin.
"Wait," warned Tad. "He won't get out right away. See, he has pulled the tent down about him."
"Yes, he's having the time of his life," nodded Ned. "I hope he never gets out. If we had our guns now!"
And, indeed, Mr. Bruin was having his own troubles. Angry snarls and growls could be heard under the heaving canvas as the black bear plunged helplessly about, twisting the tent about him in his desperate struggles to free himself.
They could hear the clatter of the tinware as he threshed about, and the crash and bang of other articles belonging to their equipment.
"Look! What's that light?" exclaimed Walter.