one of them had anything like a blanket, and, though it was the time
of the balmy Indian summer, the nights were quite cold.

There was an abundance of wood around them, and they gathered all they
could possibly need. Then they heaped up a big lot of leaves and lay
down as close to each other as possible.

This was the best that could be done; but it gave a great advantage to
the one who lay in the middle, as the warmth of the others kept him
comfortable, while they were forced to turn one side to the cold air.

By changing about, however, they got along quite well until past
midnight, when the pile of leaves caught fire and caused them to leap to
their feet with so much vigor that the outside ones got sufficiently
warm to last till daylight.

The friends were glad enough when it began growing red in the east. They
rose early, washed their hands and faces in the clear brook, which
flowed near at hand, using their handkerchiefs for towels. Then a rabbit
and couple of squirrels were shot, and, with the same wolf-like
appetites, they made a nourishing and substantial meal.

The brook, from which they took a draught of clear, strengthening water,
lay a short distance to the south of their camp, that is, between it and
Shark Pond, which they passed the day before.

The three were standing by this stream, considering the best thing to be
done to get on the track of the bear, when Sam Harper suddenly stopped
talking and looked fixedly at a point a few yards away. Then he walked
slowly to it, without removing his gaze, stooped down, and attentively
scrutinized the ground.

Without speaking, he turned and beckoned to the others to approach.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE TRAIL OF THE BEAR.

The boys did as directed, and, also stooping down, saw in the soft earth
near the water the prints of the feet of a large animal, such tracks
indeed as could have been made only by the bear.

All agreed that it was that much desired and yet dreaded animal, and
that it was more than likely he had moved to the southward, so that in
point of fact the hunters and hunted had exchanged relative positions.

Sam sternly directed the attention of Bowser to the trail, and ordered
him to "look into the matter."

The hound sniffed the ground, ran back and forth several times, and then
gazed up at his master, as if awaiting further orders.

"I won't stand any such nonsense as that," said his impatient master,
grasping him by the baggy skin