“Hurrah, we’ve got him!” ejaculated Joe, and discharged the second barrel of his gun close to the bear’s head. This finished the beast, and it soon stretched out and lay still. “What a big fellow,” was Harry’s comment, as he came forward to inspect the game. “Joe, you can be glad he didn’t get his paws around you. He might have hugged you to death.” “I am thankful,” was the answer. “But, say, won’t we have fine bear steaks now! We’ll have all the meat we want, and some to take home in the bargain.” “Not to say anything about the skin,” put in Fred. “Oh, that is to go to Runnell,” said Joe, quickly. “I’m sure he deserves it,” and the others said the same. All were so interested in looking the big prize over that the burning tree branch was, for the time being, forgotten. All had also forgotten the fire in the lodge and the burning sticks Joe had dropped on the floor. The wreck of the table was near the sticks, and in a few minutes Snow Lodge was blazing inside and out. “Hello, the place is on fire!” shouted Harry, who was the first to notice the condition of affairs. “So it is!” added old Runnell. He ran to the door and threw it open. “Quick, boys, or the lodge will be burnt to the ground!” With the door and the window open, the fire obtained a good draught, and of a sudden a blaze shot up, inside and out, that quickly mounted to the roof. “This is worse than I supposed,” said old Runnell, and ran in to stamp the blaze out. But the smoke was blinding and he soon had to retreat. Then Joe went in, but when some sparks touched him on the cheek he fell back also. “The lodge is doomed!” groaned Fred. “And everything inside will be burnt up!” “My camera films!” cried Harry. “They are on the shelf! I don’t want to lose them,” and before anybody could stop him he had leaped into the burning structure. “Harry! Harry! come out of there!” yelled Joe. But the younger brother paid no attention to the warning. On the shelf were all the pictures he had taken since coming on the outing, and he thought more of these than he did of the traps and stores. The flames were now curling all over the roof of the lodge, and with no water at hand it was easy to see that the structure could not be saved. Joel Runnell ran in, and in the smoke felt around for Harry and found him clinging to the shelf, with the rolls of films clutched tightly in one hand. “Come out,” he said, in a choking voice. “Come,” and he led the half-suffocated boy, into the open air. The water was running from Harry’s eyes, and it was fully a minute before he could get his breath to talk. Finding they could do nothing to stop the fire, they set to work to save what stores they could. This was not an easy task, and they recovered little more than a couple of blankets, a tin can of coffee, a bag of salt and a large box of matches. One of the blankets was burnt along the edge.