“I’ll soon find out,” continued Joe, and leaped through the window into the living-room of the cabin. The fire had died down until there was little or nothing left of it. Stumbling across the floor, he kicked it into a blaze and threw on a few extra sticks of wood. After this he reached for the lantern and lit it. “Well, what have you found?” asked Harry, looking in at the window. “Nothing, so far,” answered his brother. “Everything seems to be all right, although the bench is overturned and—yes—somebody has carried off that piece of venison I hung up near the window!” “That looks as if some wild animal was around, Joe.” “Creation! I didn’t think of that. Do you see anything outside—I mean footprints?” “No, it’s too dark now to see anything. Better open the door.” Joe started to do so. But as he crossed the floor a sound from the sleeping apartment caused him to halt. “Who’s there?” he cried. The only answer was a soft pat-pat of feet, and a moment later a big, black bear came into view. The beast stared at Joe in astonishment, and then arose on its hind legs and came for him, uttering a low, savage growl as it advanced. The youth did not know what to do. He was unarmed, and Harry had left the window, so he could not obtain immediate assistance. He leaped close to the fire and as he did so the bear leaped after him. CHAPTER XVIII A FIRE, AND WHAT FOLLOWED “Get back there!” Joe uttered the words mechanically, and as he did so he crouched close to the fire, and snatching a burning brand from the side, held it up in front of him. As is well known, all wild beasts dread the fire, and at once the bear paused. Then it arose again on its hind legs and uttered a roar that almost shook the lodge. “Hello! what does that mean?” cried Fred and Harry, in a breath. “It means there’s a wild animal in the lodge,” answered Joel Runnell, and leaped toward the window, gun in hand. In the meantime the bear continued to stand in front of Joe, as if meditating an attack in spite of the fire. Once it raised a fore paw as if to strike the brand from the young hunter’s hand, but Joe did not permit this, and now the boy caught up a second stick, which was blazing at one end, and threatened the bear. Again there was a roar of commingled rage and fear, and the bear leaped back, wrecking the table as it did so. It must be confessed that Joe was badly alarmed. He felt that he was in close quarters, and unless somebody came to his help very quickly, the bear would, in some manner, get the better of him. Glancing toward the window, he saw a dark object there. It was the head of Joel Runnell, and next followed the glistening barrel of the old hunter’s rifle. “Hold up the light, Joe,” called old Runnell, and at the sound of his voice the bear wheeled around and stared toward the window with interest.