lives in their hands in attacking this monster of the wilds. But had he
been ten times as big or ten times as savage they would not have
hesitated an instant, with Bert's life as the stake.

Knowing that the wind was blowing toward the bear from where they were,
they deemed it wise, as a plan of campaign, to paddle to the other side
of the island and come upon the foe from the rear. If they could take him
unawares, and pump a bullet or two into his great carcass before he had
time to charge, their chances of success would be immensely greater.

Moving as warily as Indians, they dipped their paddles in the water and
made for the upper end of the supposed island. They rounded the point
and disembarked. Clutching their guns firmly and straining their eyes, as
they gazed into the dark green recesses of the woods, they advanced,
scarcely daring to breathe.

"I'm going to signal," whispered Dick. "That'll warn Bert that we're
coming and he'll keep the bear busy." And the next instant the mournful
cry of the whippoorwill floated through the forest.

It was an accomplishment that the boys had frequently practised, and the
counterfeit was perfect enough to deceive the birds themselves.

They waited an instant, and then they heard Bert's answering
"whippoorwill."

The bear paid no attention to the familiar sound, and it was evident that
his suspicions had not been aroused.

Guiding themselves by the repetition of the cry Dick and Tom pressed