ed--"

The young Russians understood the hint. Money is all-powerful
everywhere; and a gold coin will conduct to the den of a Pyrenean bear,
where the keenest-scented hound or the sharpest-sighted hunter would
fail to find it. In an instant almost, the bargain was made. Ten
dollars for the haunt of the bear!

The _Pic du Midi d'Ossau_ was now in sight; and, leaving the beaten path
that passed near its base, our hunters turned off up a lateral ravine.
The sides and bottom of this ravine were covered with a stunted growth
of pine-trees; but as they advanced further into it, the trees assumed
greater dimensions--until at length they were riding through a tall and
stately forest. It was, to all _appearance_, as wild and primitive as
if it had been on the banks of the Amazon or amid the Cordilleras of the
Andes. Neither track nor trail was seen--only the paths made by wild
beasts, or such small rodent animals as had their home there.

The izzard-hunter said that he had killed lynxes in this forest; and at
night he would not care to be alone in it, as it was a favourite haunt
of the black wolves. With, such company, however, he had no fear: as
they could kindle fires and keep the wolves at bay.

The neighbourhood, in which he expected to find the bear, was more than
two miles from the place where they had entered the forest. He knew the
exact spot where the animal was at that moment lying--that is, he knew
its cave. He had seen it only a few days before going into this cave;
but as he had no dogs with him, and no means of getting the bear out, he
had only marked the place, intending to return, with a comrade to help
him. Some business had kept him at Eaux Bonnes, till the arrival of the
strangers; and learning their intentions, he had reserved the prize for
them. He had now brought his dogs--two great creatures they were,
evidently of lupine descent--and with these Bruin might be baited till
he should come forth from his cave. But that plan was only to be tried
as a last resource. The better way would be to wait till the bear
started out on his midnight ramble,--a thing he would be sure to do,--
then close up the mouth of the cave, and lie in ambush for his return.
He would "not come home till morning," said the izzard-hunter; and they
would have light to take aim, and fire at him from their different
stations.

It seemed a feasible plan, and as our adventurers now placed themselves
in the hands of the native