at a part of them, well salted. Boiled beans can be
eaten, but they can never rank as a table luxury.

While chewing our beans, toward the end of the repast, an odd sound
began to be heard, as of some animal digging at the door, also
snuffling, whimpering sounds. We listened for some moments.

"Boys, you don't suppose that's Tyro, do you?" cried Tom at length.
"I'll bet it is! He has taken my track and followed us away up
here!"--and jumping up, Tom ran to the door. "Tyro" was a small dog
owned at the Edwards homestead.

When, however, he opened the door a little, there crept in, whimpering,
not Tyro, but a small, dark-colored animal, which the faint light given
out from the stove scarcely enabled us to identify. The creature ran
behind the barrels; and Tom clapped the door to. Addison lighted a
splinter and we tried to see what it was; but it had run under the long
bunk where the loggers once slept. After a flurry, we drove it out in
sight again, when Tom shouted that it was a little "beezling" of a bear!

"Yes, sir-ee, that's a little runt of a bear cub," he cried. "He's been
in this old camp before. That's what made it smell so when we came in."

Addison imagined that this cub had run out when he heard us coming to
the camp, but that the severity of the storm had driven it back to
shelter. It was truly a poor little titman of a bear. At length we
caught it and shut it under a barrel, placing a stone on the top head.

[Illustration: THE BEEZLING BEAR.]

After our efforts cooking beans and the fracas with the "beezling bear,"
it must have been eleven o'clock or past, before we lay down in the
bunk. The wind was still roaring fearfully, and the fine snow sifting
down through the roof on our faces. In fact, the gale increased till
past midnight. Addison said that he would sit by the stove and keep
fire. Tom, Halse and I lay as snug as we could in the bunk, with our
feet to the stove and presently fell asleep.

But soon a loud _crack_ waked us, so harsh, so thrilling, that we
started up. Addison had sprung to his feet with an exclamation of alarm.
One of those great pine tree-stubs up the bank-side, above the camp, had
broken short off in the gale. In falling, it swept down a large fir tree
with it. Next instant they both struck with so tremendous a crash, one
on each side of the camp, that the very earth trembled beneath the
shock! The stove funnel came rattling down. We had to replace it as best
we could.

It