Then the bear began another attack on the tree where Mr. Dudley was, with such savage energy that it needed all the engineer's strength to prevent himself from being shaken down.

"Oh! Oh!" cried Mr. Dudley, desperately. "Something will have to be done at once. Help! Help!" he yelled.

"Haven't either of you men a revolver?" called Roger.

"By Jove! I never thought of it!" said Mr. Ranquist, suddenly. "Of course I have. But I'm not a very good shot, and, if I was, I'm afraid the small bullets in my gun wouldn't cause his bearship much annoyance.

It's only a .22 calibre," he added.

Carefully balancing himself, the young engineer drew the weapon from his pocket. His movement seemed to interest bruin, who left his position under Mr. Dudley's tree, and ambled over to the sapling where Mr.

Ranquist was perched, much to the relief of the older prospector.

"I'm going to shoot," said Mr. Ranquist. "I don't know what will happen after it, so look out, every one."

Taking as good aim as he could, Mr. Ranquist fired at the brute. There was no evidence that the bullet hit, so he blazed away again. This was another miss, but the third attempt was more effective, for, with an angry roar, the animal dropped on all fours, and began clawing his snout with his left paw. A few spots of blood showed on the ground.

"You hit him! You hit him!" exclaimed Mr. Dudley, and, in his delight, he tried to caper about on his slender perch, with the result that he nearly tumbled off.

"Oh, yes, I hit him," admitted Mr. Ranquist, showing just a little pride in the achievement. "I winged him, but I'll have to do better than that, if I want to persuade him to go away. These bullets are only flea-bites to him."

The little leaden pellet did not seem to cause the bear much suffering, but the pain angered him, and, with savage growls, he made fierce efforts to get at the man he apparently knew had fired the shot. In rapid succession Mr. Ranquist pulled the trigger four times more, but none of these b.a.l.l.s touched a vital spot, though two of them struck the beast in the head. He was now wild with rage.

Mr. Ranquist began to reload his revolver.

"I've only one more round--seven shots," he called.

"Hold on then!" shouted Adrian. "You can't kill him with those. If you'll hold his attention long enough, by firing at him, I'll shin down, and go for help. We'll need somebody with a gun for this bear."

"Do you think you can do it?" asked Mr. Ranquist, anxiously. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Sure I can do it," replied Adrian, with all a boy's ability in his power to do something he has never tried before.

"I rather dislike the idea, for I'm afraid he'll get away from me, even if I keep firing at him, and take after you," objected Mr. Ranquist.

"I'll chance it," was Adrian's answer. "Go ahead with loading up, and, when you're ready I'll scramble down. His back is toward me, when he's under your tree."

"All right," called Mr. Ranquist, slipping in the last cartridge.

He took as careful aim as he could, and fired a shot. This time he had the luck to hit the beast on its tender snout, which so enraged and pained the bear that he did not notice Adrian's quick movement. In order to fully cover the retreat Mr. Ranquist kept blazing away, and hit bruin twice more, though the wounds were slight. However, they served to keep the bear's attention on the man with the revolver, and Adrian slipped to the ground, edging away cautiously through the trees. When at a safe distance to prevent the noise being heard, he broke into a run.

With his last bullet gone, Mr. Ranquist settled back in the crotch of his tree. He, Mr. Dudley, and Roger made themselves as comfortable as possible, to wait until help arrived.

Meanwhile the bear went sniffing from tree to tree, getting more fierce in his rage every minute. Only the small diameter of the saplings prevented him from climbing up them. For perhaps half an hour the three were thus held prisoners, though it seemed much longer to them, all cramped as they were. Suddenly they noticed that the brute was acting strangely. He sniffed the air, and growled yet more savagely, and the hair on his back bristled up.

"I'll bet some one is coming," said Mr. Ranquist. "I only hope they have a gun. I wouldn't care to meet his bearship on the ground without one, in his present frame of mind."

The next instant there was a sharp crack. The bear gave a convulsive jump, and staggered back, clawing the air with his forepaws, and growling. Then he fell over backward in a heap.

"Good!" shouted Mr. Dudley.

A little cloud of smoke floated out from behind a big chestnut tree.

Next there came another rifle shot. The body of the beast shivered in a spasm, and then was very still.

"Him very much dead now. Yo' all kin come down," called a guttural voice, and Indian Johnny Green came into view, followed by Adrian.

Mr. Dudley, Mr. Ranquist and Roger lost no time in descending. They were somewhat stiff from standing in a cramped position in the tree so long, but, otherwise, and aside from the scare, no worse for the adventure.

"Well, it didn't take you long to bring help," observed Mr. Dudley, grateful to the boy, though a little while before he had been inclined to blame him.

"I happened to meet Johnny Green when I'd gone about a mile," said Adrian. "It's lucky he had his gun."

"It's rather a lucky affair all around," said Mr. Ranquist.

The Indian paid no more attention to the party, but proceeded to examine his prize, for the bear rightfully belonged to him. The animal was fat and of good size, and Johnny Green was well pleased.

"I guess we'll call this exploring expedition off for the rest of the day," suggested Mr. Ranquist. "I'm sure we are much obliged to you boys for coming along, and especially to you, Adrian, for being brave enough to go for help when you did."

"That was nothing," answered the boy, a little abashed at the praise.

"We shall expect you to go with us some other day this week," went on the engineer. "Now, if you'll lead the way we will go back to the hotel."

The two boys talked of nothing but the bear on the road home, but the men maintained a silence. The Indian had remained behind to look after his game. The party soon reached the inn, and, while the men went to their room Roger and Adrian hurried home to tell the news.

"Say, Roger," asked Adrian, "what made you so anxious to lead 'em on to our land by the spring?"

"Because," answered Roger, as if the matter was of no importance, "I thought they might like to get a drink. I know I did, and that's very good water you see."

"You're right about that," agreed Adrian, and by this time the two boys were at the house, where, in the excitement of telling his father and mother about the bear, Adrian forgot all else.

As soon as Roger could slip off without attracting notice from the folks, he made his way up the village street. Pausing before a pretty vine-covered cottage, he looked back to see that Adrian was not in sight, and then entered the gate.

"Is Professor Bailey in?" he asked, when Mrs. Bailey opened the door.

"He is," she answered.

"Tell him, please, that Adrian Kimball's cousin, Roger, would like to see him."

"Come right in," invited Mrs. Bailey. "You'll find him in the front room."

And there, surrounded by heaps of books, Roger found the professor, Guy Bailey, princ.i.p.al of the Cardiff school. The boy knew him from having occasionally gone to the inst.i.tution with Adrian.

"Well, Roger," began the professor, "I'm glad to see you. Come in and sit down. Can I do anything for you?"

"I think so," answered the boy. "I've come for a little information."

Then he plunged at once into the object of his visit.

"Professor," he asked, "do you think anybody would dig for gold in the hills around Cardiff?"

"Bless my soul, no! What do you mean? This is not a gold country, like California or the Klondike. What put that idea into your head?"