“Whew! but it’s bitter cold this morning!” shouted Sandy Griggs, as he opened the cabin door and thrust his head out.

“Looks like a few flakes of snow shooting past, in the bargain,” added Bobolink. “That means that the long expected storm is upon us.”

Paul turned to Jack at hearing this, for both of them were hurriedly dressing after crawling out of their comfortable bunks.

“A little snow isn’t going to make us hedge on that arrangement we made the last thing before turning in, I hope, Jack?” he asked, smilingly.

“I should say not!” came the prompt reply. “Besides, if it’s going to put a foot or two of the feathery on the ground, it strikes me you’ve just got to get that expensive camera of yours again. I’m with you, Paul, right after breakfast.”

Tolly Tip was also in somewhat of a hurry, wishing to make the round of his line of traps before the storm fully set in.

So it came about that Paul and his closest chum, after a cup of hot coffee and a meagre breakfast, hurried away from the cabin.

“We can get another batch when we come back, if they save any for us, you know,” the scout-master remarked, as they opened the door and passed out.

“Kape your bearin’s, lads,” called the old woodsman. “If so be the storm comes along with a boom it’ll puzzle ye to be sure av yer way. And by the same token, to be adrift in thim woods with a howler blowin’ for thray days isn’t any fun.”

When the scouts once got started they found that the air was particularly keen. Both of them were glad they had taken the precaution to cover up their ears, and wear their warmest mittens.

“Something seems to tell me we’re in for a regular blizzard this time,” Jack remarked as they trudged manfully along, at times bowing their heads to the bitter wind that seemed to cut like a knife.

“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if that turned out to be true,” Paul contented himself with saying.

They did not exchange many words while breasting the gale, for it was the part of wisdom to keep their mouths closed as much as possible. Paul had taken note of the way to the spot where the camera trap had been set in the hope of catching Bruin in the act of taking the sweet bait.

A number of times he turned around and looked back. This was because he had accustomed himself to viewing his surroundings at various angles, which is a wise thing for a scout to do. Then when he tries to retrace his steps he will not find himself looking at a reverse picture that seems unfamiliar in his eyes.

In the course of time the boys arrived at their destination.

“Don’t see anything upset around here,” observed Paul, with a shade of growing disappointment in his voice; and then almost instantly adding in excitement: “But the bait’s gone, all right and yes! the cartridge has been fired. Good enough!”

“Here you can see faint signs of the tracks of the bear under this new coating of snow!” declared Jack, pointing down at his feet.

Paul, knowing that he would not go for his camera until after broad daylight, had managed to so arrange it, with a clever attachment of his own construction, that an exposure was made just at the second the cord firing the flashlight was drawn taut.

It was a time exposure the shutter remaining open for a score of seconds before automatically closing again. This was arranged so that pictures could be taken on moonlight nights as well as dark ones. He had tried it on several previous occasions, and with very good results.

Brushing the accumulated snow from his camera, he quickly had the precious article in his possession.

“Nothing else to keep us here, is there, Paul?” asked Jud.

“No, and the sooner we strike a warm gait for the cabin the better,” said the scout-master. “You notice, if anything, that wind is getting sharper right along, and the snow strikes you on the cheek like shot pellets, stinging furiously. So far as I’m concerned we can’t make the camp any too soon.”

Nevertheless, it might have been noticed that Paul did not hurry, in the sense that he forgot to keep his wits about him. The warning given by Tolly Tip was still fresh in his ears, and even without it Paul would hardly have allowed himself to become indiscreet or careless.

Jack, too, saw that they were following the exact line they had taken in coming out. As a scout he knew that the other did not get his bearings from any marks on the ground, such as might easily be obliterated by falling snow. Trees formed the basis of Paul’s calculations. He particularly noticed every peculiarly shaped tree or growth upon the right side while going out, which would bring them on his left in returning.

In this fashion the scout-master virtually blazed a path as he went; for those trees gave him his points just as well as though they represented so many gashes made with a hatchet.

“I’m fairly wild to develop this film, and see whether the bear paid for his treat with a good picture,” Paul ventured to say when they were about half way to the camp.

“Do you know what I was thinking about just then?” asked Jack.

“Something that had to do with other fellows, I’ll be bound,” replied the scout-master. “You were looking mighty serious, and I’d wager a cookey that you just remembered there were other fellows up here to be caught in the blizzard besides our crowd.”

Jack laughed at hearing this.

“You certainly seem to be a wizard, Paul, to guess what was in my mind,” he told his chum. “But it’s just as you say. Sim Jeffreys told us the other day that they had come up with only a small amount of food along. If they’ve stayed around up to now they’re apt to find themselves in a pretty bad pickle.”

“That’s a fact, Jack, if this storm keeps on for several days, and the snow happens to block all the paths out of the woods. Let’s hope they gave it up, and went back home again. We haven’t seen a thing of them since then, you remember.”

Jack shook his head.

“You know how pig-headed Hank Lawson always is,” he told his chum. “Once he gets started in a thing, he hates everlastingly to give up. He came here to bother us, I feel sure, and a little thing like a shortage of provisions wouldn’t force him to call the game off.”

“Then it’s your opinion, is it, Jack, they’re still in that hole among the rocks Sim spoke of?”

“Chances are three to one it’s that way,” quickly replied Jack. “They have guns, and could get some game that way, for they know how to hunt. Then if it came to the worst perhaps Hank would try to sneak around our cabin, hoping to find a chance to steal some of our supplies.”

A short time later they sighted the cabin through the now thickly falling snow, and both boys felt very glad to be able to get under shelter.

Tolly Tip did not return until some hours had passed. By that time the snow carried by a furious wind that howled madly around the corners, was sweeping past the windows of the cabin like a cloud of dust.

Everybody was glad when the old woodsman arrived. He flung several prizes down on the floor, not having taken the time to detach the pelts.

“‘Tis a screecher av a blizzard we’re after havin’ drop in on us, by the same token,” he said, with quivering lips, as he stretched out his hands toward the cheerful blaze of the fire.

Being very eager to ascertain what measure of success had fallen to him with regard to the bear episode, Paul proceeded to develop the film.

When he rejoined the other boys in the front room some time later he was holding up the developed film, still dripping with water.

“The best flashlight I ever got, let me tell you!” Paul exclaimed. At this there was a cheer and a rush to see the film.

There was the bear, looking very much astonished at the sudden brilliant illumination which must have seemed like a flash of lightning to him.

All day long the storm howled, the snow drifted and scurried around the cabin. Whenever the boys went for wood they had to be very careful lest they lose their way even in such a short distance, for it was impossible to see five feet ahead. When they went to bed that night the same conditions held good, and every one felt that they were in the grip of the greatest blizzard known for ten years.