From the moment when his brother had cried to him to drop, Tom had kept his eyes on the bear, and when he saw the beast plunge forward and realized that it was dead, he leaped to his feet, his pale face telling of the awful strain under which he had been.

The reaction from their excitement made Larry and Horace tremble and, for the time, they could only look from their companion to the carcass of the bear, too unnerved to speak.

Tom was the first to recover from the fright, and he thanked the others for what they had done.

“Let’s not talk about it,” interposed Larry.  “The thing for us to do is to get out of here lively.  The reverberations from those shots are echoing yet.  The raiders must have heard them, and they’ll know some one is on their trail, so they will either come back to sec who it is or else hide to waylay us.”

Tom and Horace were perfectly willing to give up following the trail farther, and all three were retracing their steps when the elder of the chums cried: 

“The rifle!  Tom, you forgot to pick up your rifle.”

“Which shows I was some scared,” and he smiled apologetically.

“But it’s a worse one on Larry and me,” protested Horace.  “There’s some excuse for you.  But the bear wasn’t charging us.”

“Oh, well there’s no harm done,” returned Larry, pleased at the spirit Horace’s words showed.  “We can go back and get it.  It’s a mighty good thing, though, that we thought of It before we reached the ponies.  From the looks of the sky and the shadows it won’t be long before dusk, and Mr. Wilder told us night comes quickly in the mountains.”

Ere Larry had finished speaking they had started back to the scene of their encounter.

Yet when they reached the spot Tom’s rifle was nowhere to be seen.

In dismay the boys looked at one another.  Already the mountains were turning purple-black in the twilight, the shadows transforming the trees and rocks into weird figures.

“Perhaps it’s under the bear,” hazarded Horace, his low voice evidencing the awe which the silence and the surroundings inspired in him.

“Then give a hand while we move him,” commanded Larry.  “It won’t do to stay here long or we may lose our way as well as the rifle.”

Little relishing the thought of wandering through the woods in the dark, the boys seized one of the paws and pulled with all their might.

But, to their surprise, they could move the carcass scarcely at all.

“My, but he’s a monster!” gasped Larry.  “It’s only a waste of valuable time to try to lift him or even move him.  The only thing we can do is to try to feel under him with our hands.”

Dropping to their knees, the lads thrust their arms under the shaggy fur, being able to reach far; enough to make sure that the much-wanted rifle was not beneath the body of the bear.

“Bet he knocked it over the cliff,” declared Horace.  “From which side did he strike it, Tom?”