Several took their stations, guns in hand, commanding the entrance to the hollow. One went back upon the log, and pounded it with the butt of his gun. To no purpose. Bruin was not such a fool as to walk out and be peppered by bullets. A long pole was next thrust up the hollow. Nothing could be felt. The den was beyond reach. Smoking was next tried, but with like success. The bear gave no sign of being annoyed with it. The axes were now brought from the waggon. It would be a tough job--for the log (a sycamore) was sound enough except near the heart. There was no help for it, and Jake and Lanty went to work as if for a day's rail splitting. Redwood and the Kentuckian, both good axemen, relieved them, and a deep notch soon began to make its appearance on each side of the log. The rest of us kept watch near the entrance, hoping the sound of the axe might drive out the game. We were disappointed in that hope, and for full two hours the chopping continued, until the patience and the arms of those that plied the axe were nearly tired out. It is no trifling matter to lay open a tree ten feet in diameter. They had chosen the place for their work guided by the long pole. It could not be beyond the den, and if upon the near side, of it, the pole would then be long enough to reach the bear, and either destroy him with a knife-blade attached to it, or force him out. This was our plan, and therefore we were encouraged to proceed. At length the axes broke through the wood and the dark interior lay open. They had cut in the right place, for the den of the bear was found directly under, but no bear! Poles were inserted at both openings, but no bear could be felt either way. The hollow ran up no farther, so after all there was no bear in the log. There were some disappointed faces about--and some rather rough ejaculations were heard. I might say that Ike "cussed a few," and that would be no more than the truth. The old trapper seemed to be ashamed of being so taken in, particularly as he had somewhat exultingly announced that the "bar was treed." "He must have got off before we surrounded," said one. "Are you sure he came into the timber?" asked another--"that fool, Lanty, was so scared, he could hardly tell where the animal went." "Be me soul! gintlemen, I saw him go in wid my own eyes, Oil swear--" "Cussed queer!" spitefully remarked Redwood. "Damn the bar!" ejaculated Ike, "whur kid the varmint a gone?" Where was A--? All eyes were turned to look for the hunter-naturalist, as if he could clear up the mystery. He was nowhere to be seen. He had not been seen for some time! At that moment, the clear sharp ring of a rifle echoed in our ears. There was a moment's silence, and the next moment a loud "thump" was heard, as of a heavy body falling from a great height to the ground. The noise startled even our tired horses, and some of them broke their ties and scampered off.