"We're up against a regular snowstorm, and no mistake," remarked Owen. "We'll be lucky if we reach camp to-night." "We'll have to reach camp," answered Dale hastily. The prospect of spending a night among the hills, with no shelter, and with a big bear in that vicinity, did not appeal to him. "We'll do the best we can, Dale. I can't see the road, can you?" "Not more than a yard or two ahead of the horses. But they ought to be able to keep the trail. They know they are going home." "If they don't get scared again." On they went, the sleigh making scarcely a sound, excepting where it scraped over some wind-swept rock or an exposed tree root. Both of the young lumbermen kept on guard for a possible encounter with wild animals, but not so much as a rabbit appeared to disturb them. "Well, we've got to trust to luck," came from Owen, at last. "I can't see a thing now." "Nor I, Owen. Shall we get out and walk?" "No. Let us make ourselves comfortable in the sleigh, and the horses can take their own time about covering the ground." They settled back, expecting the team to slow down. Instead both Billy and Daisy showed a strong inclination to increase their speed. Then, a few minutes later, they shot past a clump of trees that looked strongly familiar to Owen. "Whoop!" he shouted, straightening up. "I know where we are now, Dale. Five minutes more and we'll be in sight of camp." "Good enough," responded Dale, and he too began to watch through the heavy snow. On and on they went, the team kicking up the snow briskly, as if aware that the toilsome journey would soon be at an end. Then they made a turn or two, came down under some wide-arching pines, and Dale gave a shout: "The camp! I see the lights!" He was right, and soon they were coming up to the doorway of the big cabin. A loud shout brought out several of the lumbermen, including Mr. Paxton. "You did well to get home in this storm," said the camp owner. "I thought sure I wouldn't see you until to-morrow." "We came pretty close to getting left on the road," answered Owen. "I'll tell you about it after the turnout is put away." It was only a short while after this that they were seated at the long deal table, close to the red-hot stove, eating a generous supper and relating their tale, to which the men listened with keen interest. "A bear!" cried Mr. Paxton. "It's a good thing he wasn't real hungry. If he had been he'd most likely have chewed one of you up." "I not like the bear," came from Jean Colette. "I meet heem vonce--in de woods. He come up an' want to hug me. _Bon!_ I run one, two miles to geet avay. He come after me. I climb de tree. He climb too. Den I drop down an' run some more. He run too. I swim de pond, an' run an' run, till I 'most drop dead. Den I am safe. No, Jean Colette, he not like de bear, only when he is dead an' in de pot!"