CHAPTER XV
LOST IN A STORM
Either the bear was a better traveler than the boys gave the brutecredit for being, or the trail was not as fresh as Bert had supposed.For though they went on and on, they did not see the black ungainlyform of Bruin looming up before them.
They were traveling through a rather thin part of the forest then,making good time, for the snow was not so deep here. Occasionally theythought they had glimpses of the animal they sought, but it alwaysproved to be nothing but a shadow, or a movement in the bushes, causedby the passage of some big rabbit.
"There he goes!" suddenly cried George, pointing to the left.
"Yes, that's him!" eagerly agreed Jack.
Tom and Bert also agreed that they saw something more substantial, thistime, than a shadow. But a moment later the black object, for such ithad been, was lost sight of.
"Come on!" cried Tom, as enthusiastic as any of his chums. "We've gothim now."
They raced forward, until they came to the place where they had seenthe black object, and then they noticed a curious thing. For there weretwo sets of marks--human footprints, and the broad-toed tracks of thebear.
"Look at that!" cried Jack. "Was that a man we saw, or the bear?"
No one could say for certain. But this much was sure. The bear's tracksled in one direction, and the man's in another.
Was the bear chasing the man, or was the man hunting the bear, wasanother phase of the question.
"Look here!" said Tom, who had been carefully examining the two setsof impressions in the snow. "Here's how I size this up. The bear'stracks go in a straight line, or nearly so, as you can easily see. Butthe man's tracks are in the form of a letter V and we are at the angleright here. The angle comes up right close to the trail of the bear,too.
"Now I think the man was walking through the woods, approaching thebear. He didn't know it until he was almost on the beast and then theman saw it. Of course he turned away at once and ran back. You can tellthat the footprints that approach the bear's trail are made more slowlythan the others--going away. In the last case the man was running awayfrom the bear. But the bear wasn't afraid, and kept straight on,paying no attention to the man."
"That's good argument," observed Bert.
"Can you tell us who the man was?" demanded George.
"I'm not detective enough for that," Tom confessed. "But I don'tbelieve the man was a hunter with a gun."
"Why not?" Jack wanted to know.
"Because if he had a gun, he would have fired at the bear, and we'dhave seen some change in the bear's trail. Bruin would either have runat the shot, or attacked the man, provided the bullet didn't kill atonce. And you can see for yourselves that nothing like that happened.So I argue that the man had no gun."
"Then he was Skeel, or one of his two partners," said George.
"What makes you think that?" asked Bert, curiously.
"Because we never saw either of them with a gun."
"That doesn't prove anything," Tom said. "There are lots of men inthese woods who haven't guns. It might have been Sam Wilson."
"Can you tell anything by the footprints?" asked Bert.
"No. The star mark isn't there, but that's nothing. Well, whoever hewas he got away, and we didn't get close enough to make out who hewas."
"I tell you where you're wrong in one thing, though, Tom," spoke Jack.
"How's that?"
"You said the man came up to the bear and ran away, turning off at anangle. I don't believe he saw the bear, because we were watching theman, and we would have seen the bear if he had seen him, too. For itwas right here we lost sight of the man."
"Well, maybe I am wrong about that part of it," admitted Tom, "but atleast the man didn't cross the bear's trail. Something turned him backwhen he saw the marks of the paws in the snow."
That seemed reasonable enough.
"Well, let's follow the dog," suggested Bert. "He's after the bear,anyhow."
This was so, for the dog had not even paused at the prints of the man'sfeet in the snow. He evidently preferred Bruin for game.
But now it was getting so dark that it was difficult for the boys tosee, even with the whiteness caused by the covering of snow on theground.
"I say," Tom spoke, when they had gone on a little farther. "I thinkwe'd better turn back. It will be night before we realize it, and we'rea long way from either camp. It's a question in my mind whether wehadn't better start back for Camp No. 2, and let three wait for a dayor so. It's going to snow too, soon, if I'm any judge."
"Why, we're probably as near to No. 3 as we are to No. 2," observedJack. "Why not keep on? We haven't been to Camp No. 3 yet, and I wantto see what it's like."
"Well, we'll leave it to a vote," decided Tom, who never tried to "run"things where his chums were concerned. "One place is as good as anotherto me, but we've got to do something--and that pretty soon."
"We'd better give up the bear, at least for to-night," spoke Bert, andthere was regret in his voice. "But we can take up the trail to-morrow."
"Whistle back the dog," suggested George. "And then we'll decide whatto do."
But the dog did not want to come back. They could hear him baying inthe depths of the now dark forest, but whether he was in sight of thebear, or was giving tongue because the trail was getting fresher, wasimpossible to say.
At any rate, the dog did not come back in response to the whistlesshrilly emitted in his direction.
"Well, let him go," said Bert. "He'll find his way to one camp oranother, I guess, if he doesn't go home to Sam. He said the dog oftenstayed out in the woods all night, and came back in the morning."
"All right--let him go," assented Tom. "And now what shall we do aboutourselves? Here comes the snow!" he cried a moment later, for the whiteflakes began falling in a swirl all about them.
"In for a blizzard!" commented Jack.
"Oh, not as bad as that," murmured Bert.
"Do they have blizzards up here? How long do they last? Does it getvery cold? How much snow----"
"That'll do, Why!" exclaimed Tom. "We've got something else to dobesides answering questions. Now, fellows, what is it to be--Camp No. 3or Camp No. 2? We've got to decide."
"I say No. 3," called out Bert.
"Same here," echoed Jack.
"I'm with you," was the remark of George.
"Well, I don't agree with you, but I'll give in," assented Tom. "Themajority rules. But I think it would be better to go back to No. 2Camp."
"Why?" asked Jack.
"Because we know just where it is, and we know we can be sure of a warmplace, and plenty to eat."
"Can't we at No. 3?" asked George.
"Maybe, and then again, maybe not. We certainly will have to huntfor it, and it's only a chance that it may have wood and food storedthere."
"Sam said it had," observed Bert.
"Yes, I know. But there have been men roaming about these woods that Iwouldn't trust not to take grub from an unoccupied cabin," went on Tom."However, we'll take a chance, but I think it's a mistake."
They turned about, and headed in as straight a line as they could forCamp No. 3. They knew the general direction, and had some landmarks togo by.
The storm grew more and more fierce. The snow was almost as impenetrableas a fog, and there was a cold, biting wind. It stung the faces of theboys and made walking difficult. It was constantly growing darker.
"I say!" called Bert, after a bit. He stopped floundering about in adrift, and went on: "I say, does anyone know where we are?"
"On the road to Ramsen," suggested Tom.
"I don't believe we are," Bert resumed. "I think we're off thetrail--lost!"
"Lost!" echoed George.
"Yes, lost, and in a blinding snowstorm," went on Bert.