"Possibly not, but we shall have to examine his carcass to make sure of
that."

"I don't believe we shall have much time to look after dead deer," said
Sam, "for I believe we are in the neighborhood of the very bear we're
looking for."

His friends turned toward him for an explanation of this remark, which
was uttered with all seriousness.

"Bowser has been acting very queer for the last half-hour."

"I think he has acted queer all day," observed Nick.

"I did not consider him of much account until he saved me from the
rattlesnake this afternoon; after that, I'm ready to believe he's got a
good deal more sense than you are willing to think."

Then Sam told his story, and added that the hound had left the vicinity
of the fire several times, and, going some distance in the woods, had
come back, giving utterance to a peculiar whine. At the same time he
looked up in the face of his master with much the same expression as he
did when seeking to warn him of his danger from the poisonous serpent.

"There he goes now!" suddenly exclaimed Sam; "just watch him!"

Bowser had been stretched out near enough to the fire to receive much of
its warmth, and appeared to be asleep. All at once he threw up his head
and sniffed the air, as though he scented something; then he rose, with
a low whine, and trotted straight out in the gloom.