“Don’t be a fool! What are you trying to do?” demanded Hippy.
“I shot one, I did,” cried Stacy exultingly as Hippy took the rifle from him.
“No you didn’t,” retorted the guide. “And a mighty lucky thing for you that you didn’t. It’s against the Park rules.”
“Is it against the law to stop wild animals from eating you?” demanded the fat boy indignantly.
“I reckon it ain’t.”
“It’s a poor rule that doesn’t work both ways. If the bears have a right to try to eat me, I surely have a right to see to it that they don’t. Such fool laws! You make me weary.”
The bears were now nowhere to be seen. At the first shot, which, fortunately, had gone wide of the mark, they had ambled away into the darkness. The guide seemed ill at ease.
“Just the same you shouldn’t have done that, young feller,” he said with a shake of the head. “It may git us into a lot of trouble.”
“Huh! I came near getting into trouble as it was. Do you know, one of those beasts was coming right into my tent?”
“Bears always hang around a camp at night lookin’ for an easy livin’. They never do no harm to anybody if they’re let alone. When the she-bears have cubs with them, though, they’re mighty touchy. I hope nobody heard that shot.”