After circling about the swamp for some time, the boys came upon a beaten track which led straight through the heart of the swamp.
"I say," said Don, "this is going to strike the ridge somewhere just about there," pointing northeast, "and if we don't see anything between here and the ridge, we'll strike home that way.

It'll be better walking than this cursed swamp, anyway.

Are you tired ?" Hughie refused to acknowledge any weariness.
"Well, then, I am," said Don.
The trail was clear enough, and they were able to follow at a good pace, so that in a few minutes, as they had expected, they struck the northeast end of the swamp.

Here again they called a halt, and tying up the dogs, lay down upon the dry, brown leaves, lazily eating the beechnuts and discussing their prospects of meeting the bear, and their plans for dealing with him.
"Well, let's go on," at length said Don.

"There's just a chance of our meeting him on this ridge.