"I will be having your heart's blood," he cried, rushing into his cabin.
"Come on, Hughie," cried Don, and away they rushed, following the black dogs upon the trail of the bear.
Deeper and deeper into the swamp the dogs led the way, the going becoming more difficult and the underbrush thicker at every step.

After an hour or two of hard work, the dogs began to falter, and ran hither and thither, now on one scent and then on another, till tired out and disgusted, Don held them in, and threw himself down upon the soft moss that lay deep over everything.
"We're on his old tracks here," said Don, savagely, "and you can't pick out the new from the old." "His hole must be somewhere not too far away," said Hughie.
"Yes, perhaps it is, but then again it may be across the ridge.

At any rate, we'll have some grub." As they ate the bannocks and cheese, they pictured to themselves what they should do if they ever should come up with the bear.
"One thing we've got to be careful of," said Don, "and that is, not to lose our heads." "That's so," assented Hughie, feeling quite cool and self-possessed at the time.
"Because if you lose your head you're done for," continued Don.
"Remember Ken McGregor ?" "No," said Hughie.
"Didn't you ever hear that?
Why, he ran into a bear, and made a drive at him with his axe, but the bear, with one paw knocked the axe clear out of his hand, and with one sweep of the other tore his insides right out.
They're mighty cute, too," went on Don.

"They'll pretend to be almost dead just to coax you near enough, and then they'll spin round on their hind legs like a rooster.

If they ever do catch you, the only thing to do is to lie still and make believe you're dead, and then, unless they're very hungry, they won't hurt you much." After half an hour's rest, the hunting instinct awoke again within them, and the boys determined to make another attempt.