"Take your gun, Henrik," said his mother, "for you can't tell what wild creatures you may meet on the way. It would be a fine surprise for your father if you should present him with a hare or a deer. Some fresh meat would make a rare treat for the men." The boys skimmed over mile after mile of snowy ground, and nothing unusual happened. No houses were in sight all this time, and there were no tracks of living creatures. It was lonely, and dreary, and quiet. They were nearing their journey's end, and were climbing the side of a hill, when Henrik suddenly stopped. "See, Ole," he whispered, "there are the tracks of some four-footed beast ahead of us. They are too heavy and big for hares'. It may be we are near some bear's den. Look out, for you know the old ones are sometimes very fierce. Let us follow the tracks for a while and see what we come to, anyway." "Shouldn't we be proud if we could find him and kill him?" answered Ole. "Roasted bear's meat makes a pretty good dinner." The boys travelled very carefully now, for they had come into the thick woods. The tracks suddenly came to an end at a pile of logs lying at one side. "Perhaps the bear has a snug home under those logs," said Henrik, in a low tone, as he seized his gun. At that very moment the boys heard a sound, and at once a huge brown bear appeared. He moved sleepily, as though he had just been wakened, but as soon as he got sight of the boys he roused, and his face became fierce. No time was to be lost, but Henrik was as cool as any old hunter. His hand did not tremble as he took careful aim. Whizz! flew the bullet just as the bear prepared to come at them. It would have gone straight into his heart if he had not suddenly raised his paw, but it entered that instead. "Run for your life, Ole," shouted his brother, as the huge and angry brute dashed toward them. Even as he spoke, the bear knocked Ole down, and would have made short work of him if it had not been for Henrik's coolness. A second shot from his gun broke the animal's neck. He rose on his hind legs, and plunged blindly forward only to fall dead at Henrik's feet. "It's a good thing we are trained to be soldiers at school," the brave boy said afterward, when he told the story to his father. "I really believe I should have lost my head, if it hadn't been for that training. But I said to myself: 'You never fail at home in hitting the mark, why should you now?' It gave me courage, father." His father smiled and answered, "You have done well, Henrik. I am proud of you." This was said as the boys sat around the fire in the log hut that night. As soon as they were sure the bear was really dead, they had hurried on to the camp, which was only a short distance away. Then, as soon as they had told of their luck, the men went back with them to skin the bear and cut up and bring in the meat. They brought it to the camp on a rough sledge. "He is a beauty," exclaimed one of the men, as he looked at the bear.