Without further words, the two friends turned and started for the forest. The snow was beginning to fall faster and thicker now. As they reached the forest, they stopped to choose the most likely trail that Beartooth would follow. The race had tired Ceysoda, and he was breathing heavily now. “Wait, Naltan,” he pleaded. “The boy was right. How would we know which direction Beartooth would take? Besides, at the rate this snow is falling any trace of him would be covered. Is it wise to go on?” “Wise or not, Ceysoda, we must go on. Beartooth must be found. Not knowing the forest too well, he would probably travel the main trail toward the north. We will go in that direction. If we hurry, we may be able to pick up a sign of his route before the snow has a chance to cover it completely, and reach him before he goes too far.” The boys spoke no further but hurried up the trail to the north, keeping their eyes toward the ground to look for signs of the boy’s having passed that way. Soon Naltan stopped and pointed to a place in the trail where the snow had been disturbed. “He must have fallen here. See the way the snow has been pushed aside. Come, quickly, Ceysoda, he cannot be too far ahead.” The two boys continued swiftly on the trail. Soon they were able to make out signs of fresh moccasin prints in the snow. But just when they felt they were getting close, the wind began to blow harder, sweeping along the trail and covering any tracks or other signs that they might have found. The boys had been traveling at a fast pace for some time, when Ceysoda stopped suddenly. “Wait, Naltan, I must rest,” he said. “I am tired. I cannot go on without rest. Just for a moment let me catch my breath. Surely Beartooth will not continue without rest, too, and we will lose no ground by stopping for a short while.” “All right,” said Naltan, “but just for a moment. The day is growing late.” The two boys squatted down by the side of the trail and breathed deeply to get their wind back again. Suddenly, Nathan gazed up through the trees and then, stretching his hands out in front of him, he said, “Ceysoda, my friend, look! It has stopped snowing. We are in luck. But we must hurry even so, because the storm will no longer slow Beartooth’s pace.” The two boys rose and sped on up the trail. Truly they were in luck, for soon they came upon a place in the snow where someone had stopped to rest at the side of the trail. The prints of small moccasins were plain in the snow and led straight up the trail. Now the boys increased their efforts, for they knew they must be close. Suddenly, the tracks stopped and turned off the trail into the thick woods. This puzzled Naltan, but he turned to follow them. The two boys began finding the going a little rougher. Suddenly, they found that they not only were following moccasin tracks, but another set of tracks now appeared not far behind the boy’s. These were the tracks of a bear!