coming up one tree or the other, the black bear descended slowly to the ground. Then he walked around both trees several times, and at last came to a halt between the two. Here he sank down, as if to rest, but nevertheless kept one eye open and fixed upon Joe.

"He's going on guard! He means to keep me treed!" muttered the boy, and again his heart sank. He remembered a story he had once read, in which a bear had starved a man to death and eaten him afterward. Would Mr. Bruin do so in this case?

He wished he had a pistol, or a hunting-knife, or even a fair-sized stone. But he had nothing except a thin club, which he had cut for himself with his jackknife. This he kept in hand, and also kept the knife open and where he could get at it readily if needed.

Half an hour went by,—a time that to Joe seemed a whole day,—and still the black bear remained between the two trees, dozing with one eye and watching with the other.

The sight of the beast taking it so easy was maddening under the circumstances, and at last the youth cut another club and hurled it down on top of the bear. At once the beast flew up with a roar, and, standing on his hind legs, snapped his teeth at Joe. Then he flew up the tree once more, faster than ever before.

As the bear came up, Joe went higher than before, having seen another friendly limb over his head. He was sorely tempted to reach for the beast with his club, but thought best not to run too much of a risk.

As before, the youth swung to the next tree, and again the bear gave a growl and went down. Then, being near the top of the tree, the lad took a good look around.

In a moment a sight caught his eye which caused his heart to jump with delight. There on the trail were Darry and old Benson, riding along slowly.

"Hi! hi! This way!" he shouted, with all the strength of his lungs. "This way, Darry! This way, Benson!"

He saw his cousin and the guide bring their steeds to a halt and gaze around in wonder. To them the voice appeared to come out of the very air itself.

"It's Joe's voice!" exclaimed Darry. "But I must say I don't see him."

Both gazed around, and at last the scout caught sight of the boy's handkerchief fluttering among the tree branches.

"There he is!" he exclaimed. "But what's he doing up there?"

"This way!" went on Joe, and as they turned in the direction, he added, "Look out for the bear!"

"A bear!" came from Darry. "He must be treed!"

"I reckon you've struck it," muttered Benson, and hastily unslung his rifle, at which Darry did the same. "Follow me, but be on your guard," went on the old scout.

He advanced with caution, his horse lifting his ears sharply as the neighborhood of the trees was gained. Presently the animal came to a sudden halt. At the same moment Benson caught sight of the bear.

"So that's where ye are!" muttered the old scout.

The bear raised himself on his hind legs and let out a growl at the newcomers. Hardly had the sound arose upon the air when Benson's rifle cracked, and a bullet hit the beast in the breast. Down went the animal on all fours, but did not tumble further. Instead, he made a swift bound for the scout's horse.

Crack! It was now Darry's rifle that spoke up, and the bear was hit again, this time in the right front knee. He dropped, but quickly arose, shaking the wounded leg in the air and uttering a tremendous roar of pain and rage.