Bub strained his head, but was unable to see the newcomer. Stanley, although prostrate on the ground, could see the bushes and ground hemlock moving as if the intruder was half decided not to advance.
“Bub!” he cried in a strangled whisper. “It’s a bear.”
Bub’s form became rigid as Within his range of vision a large black bear appeared. Walking flat-footed and swinging its head from side to side the small fierce eyes were centered on the campfire. With a thrill of hope both realized that bruin as yet had not observed them, but was following up the odor of the pork and beans.
At another time the youths would have found a rich comedy in the bear’s maneuvers to obtain the coveted kettle. Fearing a trap, angry at the smoke and suspicious of the man-smell she timidly advanced and as often gave a snarling growl and awkwardly bounded back. Finally one hook of a claw caught in the bail and the kettle jumped from the fire.
This action on the part of the kettle instilled fresh alarm in bruin’s breast and she retreated half into the hemlock, rumbling savagely.
Stanley was hoping the men would return and be destroyed by the bear. Then the absurdity
