He tried whistling to keep up his courage, but the sound seemed to fill the whole woods about him, and he soon gave it up.
After a few minutes he stood still and called for Fido, but the dog had gone on some hunt of his own, and with a sense of deeper loneliness, he set himself again to his struggle with the moss and brush and fallen trees.

At length he reached firmer ground, and began with more cheerful heart to climb up to the open.
Suddenly he heard a rustle, and saw the brush in front of him move.
"Oh, there you are, you brute," he cried, "come in here.

Come in, Fido.
Here, sir!" He pushed the bushes aside, and his heart jumped and filled his mouth.
A huge, black shape stood right across his path not ten paces away.

A moment they gazed at each other, and then, with a low growl, the bear began to sway awkwardly toward him.

Hughie threw up his gun and fired.
The bear paused, snapping viciously and tearing at his wounded shoulder, and then rushed on Hughie without waiting to rise on his hind legs.
Like a flash Hughie dodged behind the brush, and then fled like the wind toward the open.