It was true. The bear had turned swiftly, and was now making for the woods where Boxy, Andy and Pickles were standing. Jack in the meantime had crawled to one side, waiting for a chance to dash in and secure the rifle. The three boys scrambled to get out of the way, and a second later Jack managed to gain possession of the much-coveted firearm. The bear went a dozen paces or more and then stopped and turned to the boy with the rifle. He rushed up and stood on his hind legs, and at that moment Jack pulled the trigger. The bullet passed through bruin’s shoulder, inflicting a dangerous but not fatal wound. The beast was now all but beaten, and yet there was lots of fight in him. Could he have reached one of the boys he would have killed him on the spot. Seeing the bear so far away from the cliff, Harry slid down to the bottom, and as Jack ran off, with bruin at his heels, he slipped into the cave, and brought out all of the shotguns, each of which was luckily loaded with coarse buckshot. As Jack ran in one direction, Harry took another, and soon joined Andy, Boxy and Pickles. “Come with me,” he said, as he dealt out the guns. “We can get the best of that bear now if we only half try. He’s limping dreadfully.” Off he dashed, and the others at his heels. They caught up to the bear at the instant that Jack yelled to them to come to his assistance. Bang! bang! went the shotguns in rapid succession. The four doses were too much for bruin. He uttered one growl, sharp and shrill, and then tumbled over--dead. At first the boys could not realize that their dreadful enemy was dead. They ran back to the cave to reload the rifle and the guns. But it was not needed, and after a wait of fully five minutes they went back to inspect their great prize. “Talk about wolves and wildcats and deer!” cried Harry, not without pardonable pride. “This caps the climax. Boys, I am done hunting now.” “And so am I,” returned Jack. “No more of life in the woods for this season.” “Yes, I jess as lief pull up an’ go back to Rudskill to-morrow,” broke in Pickles. “I couldn’t sleep out heah no moah if you paid me ten dollars an hour.” “We must have that bear stuffed,” said Jack. “And when we get a regular clubroom we’ll have him stand on one end of the platform as a memento of this glorious outing.” There was no sleep for any of the boys that night, and early in the morning they set to work to skin the bear as nicely as possible, so that it might be turned over to the taxidermist in Rudskill when they arrived home. Skinning the bear and getting ready to “pull up stakes” took the whole of the day, and despite their fears of more bears, they slept that night. By daybreak they were on their way across Rock Island Lake. Twenty-four hours later they reached Rudd’s Landing, where Barton Coils greeted them warmly. The old man was astonished at their success in the hunting line.