We went along the road, and Demyan said:—
"We shan't find his trail on the road; but if he has turned off anywhere to the right or the left, then we shall see it in the snow. He will turn off somewhere; he won't go to the village."
Thus we walked along the road for a verst,[1] and then we discovered the trail turning from the road. We examined it, and wonder of wonders! the bear's tracks were not running from the road to the forest, but from the forest to the road, as we could see by the claws turned toward the road.
Said I, " This is another bear."
Demyan scrutinized it carefully, and thought for a moment.
"No," said he, "it is the same one, but he has been playing us a trick. He backed off the road."
We followed this trail, and it proved to be the case. The bear had evidently walked backward ten steps from the road, then gone behind a fir tree, turned about, and made straight off.
Demyan paused, saying:—
"Now we have really caught him. He probably would not make his lair anywhere else than in this marsh. We will encircle him."
We started on our circuit through thick fir forest. I was already weary, and the going became harder and harder. Sometimes I would stumble over a juniper bush or a young fir would get between my legs, or my snow-shoes would slide away from me without any reason, and sometimes I would trip over a stump or a log hidden under the snow. And I began to be tired out. I took off my shuba, for the sweat was pouring off from me. But Demyan glided along as if he were in a boat. His snow-shoes seemed of their own accord to bear him along. He never stumbled or slipped. He took my shuba also, and threw it over his shoulders, and kept encouraging me to come on.
We made a circuit of three versts, entirely inclosing the swamp. I had already begun to lag behind. I lost
- ↑ 3500 feet.
