At first he was at a loss to know what to do with his weapons while he cast the stone that might do so much mischief: but finally he arranged it to his satisfaction by holding the knife under his left arm, so that it could be drawn readily, and by keeping the gun in his left hand.
"Now look out!" he shouted, "an' be ready to let Tip go when the bear comes out. All yell as loud as you can when I fire, so's to scare him."
Then Bill raised his hand, took deliberate aim at the centre of the clump of bushes, and threw the stone.
The instant he did so he grasped his knife, and the others set up such a cry as ought to have startled a dozen bears.
It was some seconds before any sign was made that the animal in hiding even knew the stone had been thrown, and then there was a movement in the bushes as if it had simply changed its position—nothing more.
Bill stood silent with astonishment; he had expected to see that bear come out of the bushes with a regular flying leap, and he was thoroughly disappointed.
"Better let Tip go in an' snake him right out," suggested Bobby, who was afraid Bill would again propose a charge by the party.
Bill looked at Tim to see what he thought of such a plan, and the dog's owner nodded his head in approval.
"Then all get ready, an' take the rope off his neck," shouted Bill, as he set his teeth hard because of the struggle that it was evident would come soon.
Having the most perfect faith in the ability of his dog to kill any animal not larger than an elephant, Tim cautiously untied the ropes. But Tip did not appear to be excited by the prospect; he did not even get up from the ground, but lay there wagging his stub tail as if he was playing at "thumbs up."