We can
follow the trail if it does storm."
At the touch of the snow, the coats of the horses ruffled up, and they
stepped sluggishly. Asa had to chirrup constantly to the six ahead, and
those behind lagged at their halters. The storm increased and we got on
slowly. By four o'clock it had grown dark.
Suddenly the horses pricked their ears uneasily, and one of them
snorted. We were ascending a rocky, wooded valley between Saddleback
Mountain and the White Birch Hills. The horses continued to show signs
of uneasiness, and presently sounds of a tremendous commotion came from
the side of the hills a little way ahead. It sounded as if a terrific
fight between wild animals was in progress. The horses had stopped
short, snorting.
"What's broke loose?" Addison exclaimed. "Must be bears."
"Uh-huh!" old Tommy assented. "Tham's b'ars. Sounds like as if one b'ar
had come along to another b'ar's den and was tryin' to git in and drive
tother one out. B'ars is dennin' to-night, and tham as has put off
lookin' up a den till now is runnin' round in a hurry to get in
somewhars out of the snow.
"A b'ar's allus ugly when he's out late, lookin' for a den," the old
trapper went on.
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