“No, no, Balser, I’m so wicked. The night we saw the Fire Bear father read in the Bible where it says, ‘The prayers of the wicked availeth not.’ Oh, Balser, do you think it’s wicked to try to make a charm—that is, to pray to God to make one?” “No, indeed, Liney, God makes them of His own accord. He made you.” But Liney only half understood. The charm worked at least one spell. It made the boy braver and gave him self-confidence. Balser, Tom, and Polly had determined to ride down to Flatrock on horseback, and for that purpose one of Mr. Fox’s horses and two of Mr. Brent’s were brought into service. At three o’clock upon the famous eighth day the three hunters started for Flatrock, and spent the night in the vicinity of the mouth of Conn’s Creek; but they did not see the Fire Bear. Four other expeditions were made, for Balser had no notion of giving up the hunt, and each expedition was a failure. But the fifth—well, I will tell you about it. Upon the fifth expedition the boys reached Flatrock River just after sunset. A cold drizzling rain had begun to fall, and as it fell it froze upon the surface of the rocks. The wind blew and moaned through the tree-tops, and the darkness was so dense it seemed heavy. The boys had tied their horses in a cave, which they had used for the same purpose upon former visits, and were discussing the advisability of giving up the hunt for that night and returning home. Tom had suggested that the rain might extinguish the Fire Bear’s fire so he could not be seen. The theory seemed plausible. Polly thought that a bear with any sense at all would remain at home in his cave upon such a night as that, and all these arguments, together with the slippery condition of the earth, which made walking among the rocks and cliffs very dangerous, induced Balser to conclude that it was best to return to Blue River without pursuing the hunt that night. He announced his decision, and had given up all hope of seeing the Fire Bear upon that expedition. But they were not to be disappointed after all, for, just as the boys were untying their horses to return home, a terrific growl greeted their ears, coming, it seemed, right from the mouth of the cave in which they stood. “That’s him,” cried Polly. “I know his voice. I heerd it for one mortal hour that night when he was a chasin’ me, and I’ll never furgit it. I’d know it among a thousand bears. It’s him. Oh, Balser, let’s go home! For the Lord’s sake, Balser, let’s go home! I’d rather die three months from now than now. Three months is a long time to live, after all.” “Polly, what on earth are you talking about? Are you crazy? Tie up your horse at once,” said Balser. “If the bear gets away from us this time, we’ll never have another chance at him. Quick! Quick!” Polly’s courage was soon restored, and the horses were quickly tied again.