"Whenever we speak of 'our' bear, you'll know which one we mean," he remarked; "and, now, the next thing is to get the old chap up on dry land."
Securing some rope and a couple of blocks he had seen at the cabin, doubtless used when Trapper Jim wanted to haul logs, or with one man's power do a three-man job, Max fashioned a block and tackle.
With this they easily got the bear up the bank.
Then Max tried his hand at removing the skin, after which he cut up the bear, with Steve's assistance. And before Trapper Jim and Owen got back from setting a dozen more muskrat traps, as well as attending to those that had been neglected on the preceding day, everything needful had been done.
Great indeed was the surprise of Trapper Jim when he finally arrived, tired and likewise hungry, to smell cooking bear steaks, and discover not one bear skin stretched out properly to cure, but two.
The last one had been somewhat torn where the various leaden missiles had passed through. But the trapper assured the boys that if placed in the hands of a good fur dealer it could be easily sewed up, and would make them an elegant rug for their club room,
"Every time you walk on it you'll remember this delightful little vacation spent with Trapper Jim in the North Woods," he declared.
"And it will always have just a faint fishy smell to me, because the rascal ate up all Toby's morning catch before we got him," remarked Max.
"S-s-say, we had f-f-fish for s-s-supper last night, didn't we?" demanded Toby.
"That's right, we did," spoke up Steve, "and right sweet pickerel, too, thanks to the one who stuck it out all afternoon watching his poles and keeping one eye on the woods for the mate of our bear to appear. Oh, they were nice, all right! And I just dote on pickerel, all but the boot-jack bones."