"I can't promise you much in the way of game, Frank," said Johnston, as
the two tramped along side by side. "It is too late in the season. But
the bears must be out of their dens by this time, and if we see one we'll
do our best to get his skin for you to take home."

The idea of bringing a big bear-skin home as a trophy of his first real
hunting expedition pleased Frank mightily, and his eyes flashed as he
grasped his rifle in a way that would in itself have been sufficient
warning to bruin, could he only have seen it, to keep well out of the way
of so doughty an assailant.

"I'd like immensely to have a shot at a bear, sir," he replied. "So I do
hope we shall see one."

"You must be precious careful, though, Frank," said Johnston, "for
they're generally in mighty bad humour at this time of year, and you need
to get your work in quick, or they may make short work of you."

Various kinds of game were seen during the next day or two, and Frank had
many a shot. But Johnston seldom fired, preferring to let Frank have all
the fun, as he said. One afternoon, just before they went into camp, the
keen eyes of Laberge detected something among the branches of a pine a
little distance to the right of their path which caused his face to glow
with excitement as he pointed eagerly to it, and exclaimed,--

"_Voila_! A lucifee--shoot him, quick!"

They all turned in the direction he pointed out, and there, sure enough,
was a dark mass in the fork of the tree that, as they hastened toward it,