On the ground lay a rifle; but the bear did not seem to be seriously wounded in any way, which fact puzzled the boys not a little, because Pat O'Mara had the reputation of being a marvellous shot, and they remembered having heard the report of the gun a short time back. When he saw the new arrivals, the trapper let out a cheer that told of solid satisfaction. And indeed, to tell the truth, his situation was anything but pleasant, and the end uncertain, with that wicked old bear determined to get him by fair means or foul. "Haroo!" shouted the trapper, waving his coonskin cap vigorously above his red head; "sure yees are the byes to hilp me out av throuble, so ye be! Alriddy he scents me frinds, and is backin' down out av the three. Just take up alongside the fut av the same, and put a flea in his ear before he can turn to do yees any harrm. Haroo! Make a clane job av the same, remimber. An' wan at a time, av ye plaze!" "You take him first, Sandy," said Bob, with his usual thoughtfulness, always willing that his brother should carry off the honors when there was a choice. He stood alongside, and held his musket in readiness, so that in case the first leaden missile failed to finish old Bruin he might join in the affair. The bear, while still angry, was evidently considerably concerned over the coming of reinforcements. Sandy knew how to do the part of the business that had been entrusted to him. "Stiddy, lad, stiddy!" warned the trapper, already following the bear down the tree. "Make a sure job av it now; and don't spile the pelt!" Bang! went the heavy charge which was in Sandy's flint-lock musket. The bear immediately fell in a heap on the ground. Bob stood there, ready to add the finishing touch if absolutely necessary; but among hunters it is always understood that there shall be no interference at such times unless positively needed; and the game had been placed in Sandy's hands. And in this case there was no need, for the bear, after making a desperate attempt to struggle to his feet, dropped, and lay still; whereupon Sandy and the good-natured Irish trapper united in a cheer that made the woods ring again and again. "Afther all, it is Sandy's pelt, and it's glad I am he had the good sinse to sind his bullet back av the forelig instid av liftin' the baste's hid," declared the man who had been rescued from the tree. "But how comes it that we found you in such a queer scrape, Pat?" asked Bob, with a twinkle in his eye; for he knew very well something must have gone amiss, or the usually clever woodsman would not have found himself in so sore a strait. "Arrah! it's ashamed I am to till yees, me byes; but sure thot was a time Patsy found himself up the wrong tree," admitted the other, who was so good-natured that he could even laugh at a joke on himself.