When the cubs lifted their voices in protest against the absence of their mother, the animal in the narrow passage began to back again. The men outside apparently knew what was taking place, for the opening was darkened by a sturdy figure as the animal pressed back to where Carl stood. The boy hesitated for a long time trying to decide upon the best course to pursue.
He did not relish the idea of wounding the mother bear with his knife, but still less did he like the notion of himself being wounded by the sharp teeth and claws of the animal. He knew that if he could keep the bear in the narrow passage his pursuers could not enter, but at the same time he understood that this situation could not long endure.
“I wonder if the old lady would overlook me long enough to get to her babies if I should let her pass?” mused the boy.
The lad was not called upon to answer that question, for while he hesitated a shout came from the outside, and the man who had been creeping in withdrew, his bulky body giving place to a slant of sunshine.
“They’ve got the machine!” he heard some one saying.
“I don’t believe it!” another voice declared. “If you see a machine it isn’t one of the three belonging to the boys.”
“I don’t know who it belongs to,” the first speaker insisted, “but I know there’s a machine coming this way from the shelf of rock!”
“Perhaps they have captured a machine and they are bringing that blasted Englishman over,” still another voice cut in.
At that moment the desperate bear in the passage charged.