“Can’t we skin her?” cried Phil. “It would be a splendid thing to take home a bear-skin that we got ourselves.”
“I’d like well enough to have the skin,” said Adam, “but I ain’t goin’ to stop to take it off. If the old he-bear comes home while we are here, he’ll make it hot for us. Just you pick up one of them young cubs, and I’ll take the other, and the quicker we’re off the better.”
Phil had been so delighted at seeing the dead bear that he had scarcely noticed the young ones, but he now picked up one of them, while Adam, tucking the other under his left arm, hastily led the way to the bed of the stream, down which they hurried as fast as they could go.
When Phil and Adam reached the point where they left the bed of the stream, which here turned to the south, and began to force their way through the bushes and vines, and over the uneven ground, they went more slowly.
To push through and under the tangled maze on each side of the barely-discernible track, to hold securely the struggling cub which each of them carried, and to keep an ear open all the time for the approach of an enraged bear, which might be in pursuit of them, was as much as they could do.
CHAPTER VIII.
“CAPTAIN OF HIMSELF.”
Captain Chap and Treasurer Phœnix had a very good time fishing, and before long they had caught many more fish than they thought would be needed for that night’s supper. They were not at all sure that everything they had taken was good to eat, but they thought that Adam would be able to pick out of the catch enough for a meal. They had no blue-fish or bass, for this was not a part of the river where these were to be found, nor did Chap have an opportunity to exercise his strength in hauling in another powerful cavalio.
After a time Chap wound up his line.
“It’s no use catching any more fish,” he said. “We have enough of them now, and we might as well pole the boat ashore, and wash off this forward deck. But before we do that, I’m going to take a swim.”