In truth, the expedition had been delayed that Limpy’s sore _toe_ might _heal_. That was one of Liney’s jokes. Limpy had no gun, but he fairly bristled with knives and a hatchet, which for several days he had been grinding and whetting until they were almost as sharp as a razor. The boys roamed through the forest all day long, but found no trace of the one-eared bear, nor of any other, for that matter. So toward evening they turned their faces homeward, where they arrived soon after sunset, very tired and hungry. Liney had walked over to Balser’s house to learn the fate of the one-eared bear, and fully expected to hear that he had been slaughtered, for she looked upon Balser as a second Saint Hubert, who, as you know, is the patron saint of hunters. One failure, however, did not shake her faith in Balser, nor did it affect his resolution to kill the one-eared bear. Next day the boys again went hunting, and again failed to find the bear they sought. They then rested for a few days, and tried again, with still another failure. After several days of fruitless tramping through the forests, their friends began to laugh at them. “If he ever catches sight of Tom,” said Liney, “he’ll certainly die, for Tom’s knives and hatchet would frighten any bear to death.” Balser also made sport of Tom’s armament, but Tom, a little “miffed,” said:— “You needn’t be so smart; it hasn’t been long since you had nothing but a hatchet. You think because you’ve got a gun you’re very big and cute. I’ll bet the time will come when you’ll be glad enough that I have a hatchet.” Tom was a truer prophet than he thought, for the day soon came when the hatchet proved itself true steel. The boys had started out before sun-up one morning, and were deep into the forest when daylight was fairly abroad. Tige and Prince were with them, and were trotting lazily along at the boys’ heels, for the day was very warm, and there was no breeze in the forest. They had been walking for several hours, and had almost lost hope, when suddenly a deep growl seemed to come from the ground almost at their feet. The boys sprang back in a hurry, for right in their path stood an enormous bear, where a moment before there had been nothing. “Lordy! it’s the one-eared bear,” cried Tom, and the hairs on his head fairly stood on end. My! what a monster of fierceness the bear was. His head, throat, and paws, were covered with blood, evidently from some animal that he had been eating, and his great red mouth, sharp white teeth, and cropped ear gave him a most ferocious and terrifying appearance. Balser’s first impulse, now that he had found the long-sought one-eared bear, I am sorry to say, was to retreat. That was Tom’s first impulse also, and, notwithstanding his knives and hatchet, he acted upon it quicker than a circus clown can turn a somersault.