“No. The star mark isn’t there, but that’s nothing. Well, whoever he was he got away, and we didn’t get close enough to make out who he was.” “I tell you where you’re wrong in one thing, though, Tom,” spoke Jack. “How’s that?” “You said the man came up to the bear and ran away, turning off at an angle. I don’t believe he saw the bear, because we were watching the man, and we would have seen the bear if he had seen him, too. For it was right here we lost sight of the man.” “Well, maybe I am wrong about that part of it,” admitted Tom, “but at least the man didn’t cross the bear’s trail. Something turned him back when he saw the marks of the paws in the snow.” That seemed reasonable enough. “Well, let’s follow the dog,” suggested Bert. “He’s after the bear, anyhow.” This was so, for the dog had not even paused at the prints of the man’s feet in the snow. He evidently preferred Bruin for game. But now it was getting so dark that it was difficult for the boys to see, even with the whiteness caused by the covering of snow on the ground. “I say,” Tom spoke, when they had gone on a little farther. “I think we’d better turn back. It will be night before we realize it, and we’re a long way from either camp. It’s a question in my mind whether we hadn’t better start back for Camp No. 2, and let three wait for a day or so. It’s going to snow too, soon, if I’m any judge.” “Why, we’re probably as near to No. 3 as we are to No. 2,” observed Jack. “Why not keep on? We haven’t been to Camp No. 3 yet, and I want to see what it’s like.” “Well, we’ll leave it to a vote,” decided Tom, who never tried to “run” things where his chums were concerned. “One place is as good as another to me, but we’ve got to do something--and that pretty soon.” “We’d better give up the bear, at least for to-night,” spoke Bert, and there was regret in his voice. “But we can take up the trail to-morrow.” “Whistle back the dog,” suggested George. “And then we’ll decide what to do.” But the dog did not want to come back. They could hear him baying in the depths of the now dark forest, but whether he was in sight of the bear, or was giving tongue because the trail was getting fresher, was impossible to say. At any rate, the dog did not come back in response to the whistles shrilly emitted in his direction. “Well, let him go,” said Bert. “He’ll find his way to one camp or another, I guess, if he doesn’t go home to Sam. He said the dog often stayed out in the woods all night, and came back in the morning.” “All right--let him go,” assented Tom. “And now what shall we do about ourselves? Here comes the snow!” he cried a moment later, for the white flakes began falling in a swirl all about them. “In for a blizzard!” commented Jack. “Oh, not as bad as that,” murmured Bert. “Do they have blizzards up here? How long do they last? Does it get very cold? How much snow----”