When the boys saw the two glowing spots of fire in the entrance to the cave, for one sickening moment they imagined that it was something supernatural. They waited tensely for whatever fearful development might follow.

“What can it be, Sid?” And Raymond’s voice trembled.

“It’s beyond me. Is it outside, or in?”

As they gazed, the glowing orbs rose slowly to about the height of a man, where they again remained stationary. There was a rock wall a short distance in front of the cave so that no sky-line could be visible from the entrance. Consequently, in the pitch darkness there was not the slightest suggestion of a form that could be distinguished. It was as though the luminous points had raised independent of any agency. But the fact of their rising to the height at which they stopped suggested a possibility to Sidney, and he exclaimed under his breath,—

“It must be a bear, Ray, and he’s risen to his hind legs.”

“Gee! I believe it is, and those are his eyes.”

“But don’t shoot, you would only wound him.”

Sidney’s warning was too late, for as he spoke Raymond fired. The glowing balls wavered, rapidly disappearing and reappearing several times, then became extinguished. At the same time there was the sound of scratching and straining, with groaning and grunting. Then there was a cough or two and all was quiet.

The boys waited with their hearts in their throats, expecting an attack from some sort of formidable animal. But the silence continued.

“You certainly hit him, Ray,” said Sidney.

“Yes, but why didn’t he drop?”

“Perhaps you didn’t kill him.”

“Then why didn’t he run away, or attack us? And why is he so still now?”

“I give it up,” said Sidney. “I wish I could see.”

“I’m going to strike a match,” declared Raymond, “and find out what I did do.”

“Well,” said Sidney, rather dubiously, “I suppose that will do no harm. If he wants to rush us he won’t wait for a light.”

The match burned dimly and the boys strained their eyes to solve the mystery held by the darkness. Then the blaze flared up brightly, and there, erect in the entrance, loomed a huge bulk which the boys could not see well enough to identify.

Raymond smothered an exclamation when he saw it, but before either of them could determine what it was, the light died down and they were again left in darkness.

The monster had seemed to be just crowding through the opening, which he completely filled, and the apparition had appeared so lifelike that the boys expected an immediate onslaught. They were appalled by the size of the intruder, and in their cramped quarters only one result seemed possible. Still there was no advance by the strange animal, and the silence was still profound.

“If that is a bear,” whispered Sidney, “why doesn’t he do something?”

“We might as well be killed as scared to death in this way; I’m going to strike another match.”

Raymond took a cautious step toward the entrance and lighted a match. The anxious boys thought the blaze would never stop sputtering and burn clear and bright. When it did, Raymond held it up as close as he dared and saw a great bear standing erect on his hind legs, apparently wedged tightly in the opening. The animal’s head lay over to one side against the rock, and blood dripped from the jaws.

“He’s dead!” exclaimed Raymond. “He must have been just squeezing through when I fired into his mouth and killed him, and he was wedged in too tight to fall.”

“For Heaven’s sake, Ray, think what would have happened if you had done as I said and not fired!”

“Well, I did fire, and nothing happened. But wasn’t that a lucky shot?”

“You always do just what you want to with a gun, Ray, whether it’s light or dark.”

“Oh, this was a chance shot, of course, for I couldn’t see a thing but his eyes. It’s mighty strange that his eyes shone so when it’s so dark.”

“The rock at the back of the cave is white,” said Sidney, “and it must reflect a little light. He could probably see us, though we couldn’t see him.”

“I move we get to bed,” said Raymond; “such scares make me awfully tired.”

“And leave that fellow standing in the door?”

“Why not? He can’t hurt us now.”

“No, I guess he’s past that. Well, I’m tired, too, and I’ll beat you to bed.”

In less than a minute the boys had pulled off their shoes and crawled into their blankets, and in another minute they were asleep. Their excited, turbulent life of the previous few weeks, and the great fatigue they underwent at times, had put them in good training to sleep promptly. An opportunity was all they needed, and they immediately became oblivious to all their worries.

When the boys woke in the morning and saw the light peering around the huge form that was still jammed in the entrance, the sight was rather startling. A moment’s reflection, however, recalled the events of the previous evening, and alarm became curiosity. They found that the bear would undoubtedly have succeeded in passing the entrance had he not been killed in the nick of time. While his body was a tight fit in the opening, it was really held upright, after the fatal shot, mainly by projections of the unequal rocky sides. He was, however, quite as big as he had appeared in the dim light.

When Raymond fired, the bullet, as he had surmised the night before, had entered the bear’s mouth, which probably had been open, and had, undoubtedly, penetrated the brain, causing instant death. The boys pushed and lifted on the carcass until they succeeded in crowding it out sufficiently to let it fall to the ground, where it lay just outside the entrance.

“Gee, but he’s a whopper!” exclaimed Raymond, as they stood looking down at the prostrate animal.

“He would have made things lively for us,” said Sidney, “if he had once got inside.”

“Yes, but he didn’t get inside, thanks to this little pet of mine.” And Raymond patted his revolver approvingly.

“I’ll tell you what, Ray; I’m going to sharpen my knife on a rock and see if I can’t cut out some steaks.”

“That will be swell!” agreed Raymond.

Sidney found it was not easy to put an edge on a knife with only a piece of rock for a whetstone. The beast’s hide, too, was extremely tough. He finally, however, succeeded in laying the skin back enough to cut two or three fine steaks.

The rain had ceased in the night, and morning had come clear and cold. While Sidney was struggling with the meat, Raymond gathered wood and built a fire. By the time the steaks were ready there was a fine bed of coals to broil them, and the boys were soon eating a savory breakfast.

“It’s a shame to leave that fine pelt here,” said Raymond, looking from the steak he was consuming over to its source.

“Yes, it is,” assented Sidney, “but, of course, we can’t do anything with it. If we had it in El Paso, though, it would pay a passage home for both of us.”

“I guess it would,” sighed Raymond; “and to think we’ve got to let it lie here! It’s the first bear I ever shot, too.”

“And you shot him blindfolded. I don’t see how you managed to do it.”

“Well, I aimed just a little below his eyes. I intended to shoot him in the head, but I’d forgotten a bear’s snout is so pointed. If the bullet hadn’t struck him in the mouth, just by a chance, it wouldn’t have killed him.”

“I wish father was here to have some of this meat,” said Sidney; “you know he’s awfully fond of bear steak.”

“Gee!” exclaimed Raymond, “I wish we knew where he is; it makes me homesick to think about him.”

“I guess mother will never let us go away from home again,” said Sidney, “after we get back this time.”

“If we get back this time, you mean.”

“Oh, we’ll get back all right, Ray, and don’t you forget it.”

“I certainly shan’t, if we get there.”

It had taken the boys a good while to prepare the steaks and cook them, so by the time they had finished their breakfast it was later than they usually took the road. They hurried off, therefore, with a last regretful look at the fine skin which they were obliged to leave behind.

The elevation had been rapidly increasing and the mountains had become rockier and more precipitous. The sleet which fell the night they were in the cave was the first frozen rain they had encountered, but the snow-covered heights had even before that sometimes seemed very near.

The night after the boys’ adventure with the bear was very cold and they searched for another cave, but unsuccessfully. They found, however, a crevice in the rocks that was large enough for them to crawl into. They could not lie down, but they huddled up close together in their blankets and were warmer than they would have been outside.

The next night the boys found shelter in the mountain village of Bezheeta, which perched at an elevation of about nine thousand feet. The warmth of the rude stone house in which they slept was very pleasant after the exposure of the previous nights. Bezheeta is at the foot of the ultimate great ridge which forms the backbone of the Caucasus Range. The snowy summits towered some three thousand feet above the village, and appeared to the weary boys an almost insurmountable barrier.

There was no dance that night as there had been at the other village where they stopped. The night air was too frosty for such an outdoor function. Consequently the boys were allowed to get to sleep early, and were up correspondingly early in the morning. That enabled them to start out on their last climb long before the sun appeared over the mountain crests.

The trail went up the steep ascent by a switchback which crossed, back and forth, the bed of a foaming stream that came down from a glacier above. At first the walking was good, over hard rock, but presently they reached snow, and tramped for a time through half-frozen slush. That greatly increased the effort necessary to climb the steep trail. The boys slipped and slid, and it sometimes seemed to them that they hardly advanced at all. Their feet became soaked and cold, and altogether they felt very miserable and discouraged.

Then gradually the slush underfoot became firmer and changed to old snow that was packed and frozen hard. Finally the noise of the torrent ceased; that, too, was frozen. Still, up, up, the boys toiled, their packs growing heavier and their breath shorter.

As the day advanced, clouds gathered about the summits, and from these masses snow-squalls swept down across the ravines and ridges. Several of these surging gusts enveloped the boys. At first the flurries of snow were light and rather fun than otherwise, but as the boys gained in altitude the storms increased in density and in severity. Finally, when one came they did not try to breast it, but stopped, in the shelter of some rock if possible, till it passed.

Occasionally there was a heavy noise like rolling thunder that echoed from cliff to cliff. The boys thought it very strange that there should be thunder with what was, in effect, a midwinter storm. Also there was no lightning, only the reverberating noise, but they could think of no other cause, and accepted the thunder theory as the only one.

Then the perplexing question was solved in a startling manner. The boys were toiling up the steep side of a ravine, with the slopes above them more nearly perpendicular than where they were. A storm, which appeared to be heavier than any previous one, passed along the mountain, extending beyond the boys, and nearly smothering them in swirling snow.

When the gust had gone by, just as they were able to see once more, there was a roar directly above them. They looked up and saw what appeared to be the whole mountain-side sweeping down upon them.

“It’s an avalanche, Ray!” cried Sidney; “run to one side.”

The boys ran back on the trail to the first angle, then plunged off into the snow, floundering along in frantic haste. They had time, however, to take only a few steps when the great mass of snow was upon them. With it were carried rocks and brush, whatever the torrent had been able to tear from the mountain.

When the boys saw that they could not escape, and were about to be overwhelmed, they seized hold of a small scrub tree that was growing from a cleft in the rock, and hung on for life.