where the snow was hacked by the bear's paws, but below this ledge the
bank trended steeply down--its slope terminating in the bed of deeper
snow already described.

As stated, the three hunters had taken their stand, but not all
together. Directly in front of the cave was Pouchskin, and below it, of
course, on account of the sloping bank. He was some six paces from the
aperture. On the right side Ivan had been placed, while Alexis had
passed on, and now stood upon the left. The three formed a sort of
isosceles triangle, of which Pouchskin was the apex, and the line of the
bank the base. A perpendicular dropped from the muzzle of Pouchskin's
gun would have entered the aperture of the cave. Of course Pouchskin's
was the post of danger; but that was to be expected.

They stood a good while in silence. No signs of Bruin--neither by sight
nor hearing.

It was then resolved that some stir should be made--a noise of any kind,
that might bring the beast forth. They coughed and talked loudly, but
all to no purpose. They shouted at length with like fruitless result--
Bruin would not stir!

That he was inside none of them doubted. How could they? The tracks
going to the cave, and none coming from it, set that question at rest.
Certainly he was in his den? but whether asleep or not, it was evident
he took no heed of their shouting.

Some other means must be adopted to get him out. He must be stirred up
with a pole! This was the plan that suggested itself, and the one
determined upon.

Pouchskin started off to procure a pole. The others kept guard--still
holding their guns in readiness, lest the bear might make a rush in
Pouchskin's absence. But Bruin had no such intention; nor was his
presence betrayed by sight or sound, until Pouchskin came back. He had
cut a pole with his axe, and had taken the precaution to select a long
one. A young sapling it was, that when cleared of its branches appeared
as long as a hop-pole. Pouchskin knew the advantage of its length. He
had no particular wish to come to close quarters with the bear.

Creeping back pretty nearly into his old place, he inserted the end of
the sapling into the aperture--then rattled it against the sides, and
waited a bit. No response from Bruin! Once more the pole was pushed
in, this time a little further, and again accompanied with similar noisy
demonstrations. Bruin neither moves nor makes sound!

"He must be asleep! Try a little further, P