er all this rumpus?" said Jerry disconsolately.

"If half that I've heard about his liking for wild honey is true, a dozen
rackets like that couldn't keep him away. Joe, you know. Tell us if that
isn't so?" asked Frank.

"Oh, he'll come, all right, if he smells that honey," returned the boy
confidently.

"That settles it, then. We stay a while, at any rate," declared Frank.

Jerry was secretly pleased. Perhaps he did have a little streak of envy
in his composition, for it galled him to have others succeed in his
beloved sport while fortune denied him a fair share of the honors. But,
taken all in all, Jerry was square enough, and would quickly change
places with a companion in a boat when it appeared that all the fish were
lying at his end.

Frank moved his position a little. Then they settled down to wait. Of
course, every one of the three boys cast rather frequent and apprehensive
glances up into the branches overhead. Sometimes these panthers hunted in
pairs, and how were they to tell but what the mate to Frank's victim
might be even then watching for a chance to leap down upon them?

An hour passed. Then Jerry heard a grunting sound somewhere close by. It
was accompanied by a rustling in the bushes.

His pulses thrilled, while Joe, who had taken up a position alongside him
after the adventure with the panther, put out a hand and nudged Jerry
several times.

"Bear!" he said, in the lowest of whispers.

Again and again came the grunting and the swishing of bushes. Bruin was
sniffing the delightful aroma of honey. It was so strong that his usual
caution was apparently thrown to the winds, and he pushed forward
straight toward the spot where the broken tree hive had scattered much of
its delicious contents over the ground.

Now Jerry could see his bulky figure as he shuffled forward with eager
mien. The repeating rifle began to come up, though Jerry was in no hurry
to fire. He wanted to get a fair view of the animal's side, so that he
could bring Bruin down with a single shot.

They could hear the beast grunting in delight as he started in to devour
some of the bees' rich treasure. Perhaps he had long cast an envious eye
on that same tree hive, and hoped for the time to come when a storm might
lay it low.

Frank held his fire generously. He could have shot the bear several
times, and with the buckshot shells that were in his gun had no fear
about killing his game with ease; but it was really Jerry's turn.