THE WOLF PACK
"BOB! Wake up! The wolves!"
The shout rang out above the noise of the still whining wind. Aroused
from a sound sleep by the startling cry, Bob struggled to a sitting
position. Fortunately, he was a boy not easily rattled. The sight of
those gleaming eyes told him what had happened, and it was perhaps more
through instinct than anything else that he immediately pushed his
musket forward and let fly at the nearest pair.
Sandy was not far behind, and the double report made a crash that
seemed to produce a temporary panic among the gaunt callers. They
hastily withdrew, though with many snarls and long-drawn howls.
Both boys were now on their feet, ready to swing their guns by the
barrels if necessary, and use them as a further means of defence.
Seeing that their enemies had beaten a temporary retreat, Bob sprang to
the fire, and, kicking the partly burned log with his foot, stirred
the flame into new life.
"Throw on some small wood, Sandy!" he called, as he bent over the
barricade to ascertain whether their lead had been wasted, or found its
mark.
"Did we get anything?" demanded the younger boy, understanding the
object of Robert's survey, and being possessed of the frontier hunter's
instinct, which looked upon the loss of a charge of powder and shot as
next door to a sin.
"One is lying here, and from the snarling over yonder I take it they
are tearing the wounded fellow to pieces," replied the older boy, as he
proceeded to reload his musket.
"Well, I want that skin the worst way," ventured Sandy; "and if we
leave the beggar outside the fort they will spoil it. So keep a watch
while I climb over and drag the wolf inside."
"Be careful," warned Bob, who knew his brother's rash inclinations only
too well. He stood ready, with both guns within reach, so that, if at
any time Sandy seemed to be in peril, he could pour in a hot fire that
must frighten the four-footed enemy away again.
But Sandy, himself, knew better than to take too much risk. No sooner
had he seized hold of the dead animal than he started to move backward
toward the logs that had been piled up to form a rampart.
"Hurry!" cried the voice of the one on guard. "They are coming with
a rush, and from three quarters! Leave the hide to them, and save
yourself, brother!"
But Sandy was an obstinate lad. He had made up his mind to possess the
skin of the dead wolf, and did not want to relinquish it to the tender
mercies of the pack.
Having dragged it close to the logs, he exerted himself to the utmost
to give the weighty animal a toss that would accomplish his purpose.
Nevertheless, but for the prompt assistance of Bob, who clutched the
beast and dragged it over, Sandy must have failed in his endeavor.
"Quick! Climb up! They are here!" he heard shrilled in his ear.
In his hurry his foot slipped and he fell backward to the ground.
Just above him there burst out a flash, and a heavy report instantly
followed. Sandy knew what it meant, and that his faithful brother was
firing at the advancing pack in order to stop their rush.
He struggled to his feet, and commenced once more to clamber up the
rude fortification, at the same time shouting at the top of his voice.
This was done with a purpose, for he understood full well that, like
most cowardly animals, wolves greatly fear the voice of man.
Bob, too, was exerting himself to the utmost. Again came that
tremendous crash, as the second musket was discharged close to Sandy's
ear.
Then an eager hand laid hold of him, and he felt himself dragged over
the topmost log!
Both boys were panting for breath, but, thrusting one gun into Sandy's
hands, Bob started to hastily reload the other. They could hear their
enemies not ten feet away, snarling and snapping terribly. It needed no
explanation to tell Sandy what was going on out there in the snow; for
he knew that wolves are cannibals if pressed with hunger.
"It was a pretty close shave, Bob!" he exclaimed, after he had rammed a
bullet home in his gun, and fixed the priming in the pan.
"And a foolhardy act," returned the other, gravely. "If you had missed
your footing a second time you would have been pulled down in spite of
all I could do, and that would have been the end of us."
Sandy felt abashed. He knew perfectly well that he had been guilty of
a reckless feat that might have cost both of them their lives; for
without doubt Bob would have leaped over the barrier to his assistance,
and shared his sad fate.
Perhaps thoughts of the dear ones at home, who would have mourned them
so grievously, may have caused the boy to resolve upon a wiser course
the next time he found himself tempted to take hazardous chances.
They stood on guard, and waited to see what their enemies would do when
they had finished their meal.
"I hope they will go away, and leave us alone," said Sandy, uneasily.
"That would be almost too good to be true," remarked Bob, who knew more
about the habits of animals than his brother. "Instead, I fear that the
taste of food they have had will only make them more savage."
"Look! they are beginning to creep closer again!" exclaimed Sandy, a
minute later, with a feeling of renewed uneasiness.
"Then we had better begin to shoot again, and make every bullet count.
Let me start the ball rolling, boy," said Bob, as he picked out a dark
form advancing slowly over the white snow.
Resting his musket across the upper log, he took a careful aim and
fired. With the report a series of howls burst forth, and many forms
were seen dashing this way and that. Some fled, only to come back again
when they scented a new feast, and in another minute the wolf that had
fallen before the gun of the young pioneer was affording his mates an
additional scrap of dinner.
"Now, wait until I have reloaded, and then you do as well," remarked
the calm Bob, who had learned many valuable lessons from older hunters;
and he knew how dangerous it would be for them to be caught with empty
guns, should their foes attempt to rush the shelter in a body.
Sandy, nothing loth, picked out his victim, and when his brother gave
the word he pressed the trigger with more or less delight.
"That is one the less, I reckon," he remarked, as he quickly dropped
the butt of the musket on the frozen ground, and commenced to handle
his powder horn, to measure out sufficient of the precious black
grains for another charge.
"But I fear that for every beast we drop two new ones come out of the
woods," said Bob, believing that they should understand the worst, and
not deceive themselves with false hopes.
Sandy was for keeping up the fusillade, but his wiser brother had
already recognized the folly of wasting their scanty ammunition so
hastily.
"How many more bullets have you in your pouch?" he asked, quietly.
"Just three," replied the other, his enthusiasm checked.
"And I have only four," Bob went on; "so you see at the most we can
only account for seven of the beasts. After that it would be hand to
hand. We must hold off as long as we can, reserving our ammunition for
a desperate extremity."
"How long will it be before dawn comes?" asked Sandy, anxiously.
Of watches or clocks the pioneers had none; but most boys knew how to
tell time from the stars, or from mere instinct; just as one accustomed
to arousing at a certain hour realizes that the time has come,
although all may be darkness about him.
Bob scanned the dull heavens through the branches of the trees. And as
it happened there came a little break in the clouds just then, through
which he caught a glimpse of the moon.
"I think that it will only be an hour now before daylight comes," he
said with a sense of satisfaction in his voice; "and, besides, the
storm is at an end, for there the moon shows through the clouds."
"But the wolves are creeping closer all the time," declared Sandy, as
he looked over the barrier. "Just see, there must be an awful heap of
the critters, Bob. Do you think they will try to climb over here?"
"It may be," replied the other, "but so long as we can wield our guns
they shall not get a footing inside our fort. Shoot only as a last
resort. And if the very worst comes--"
"Yes, what then, Bob?"
"Try to climb up to the topmost root above. Perhaps we might manage to
hold out until daylight frightens them away. But here they come, Sandy!"
In another minute the two boys were striking at the heads of such
daring animals as ventured to show above the top of the low rampart.
The heavy muskets were fair weapons of offence for such work; though
more than once Bob warned his impulsive brother to be careful, lest he
strike a log and break his gun, which would be a serious catastrophe,
indeed.
Their quarters were so confined that it was only with considerable
difficulty they managed to strike fairly. But many a venturesome wolf
was knocked back when those rising and falling muskets came in contact
with his hairy head, and, amidst the savage howls that arose without
the barricade, snarls of pain might have been distinguished.
At times the work slackened somewhat, allowing the panting boys a
chance to catch their breath, but only to go at it again with renewed
energy.
How the long minutes dragged by, with all this tremendous excitement
stirring their blood to fever heat! Sandy cast many a despairing look
up at the moon, now plainly seen in the clearing heavens, as though he
fancied that it must be remaining stationary, and the night becoming
interminable.
Would morning never come? Must they carry on this bitter struggle only
to be overwhelmed by superior numbers in the end?
Three times now one of them had found it necessary to fire, when things
seemed to have reached a state approaching desperation.
"Courage!" shouted Bob, as he brought his gunstock down on the head of
a hungry wolf. "Look to the east, boy! The dawn has come at last!"
It was even so, and, thrilled with renewed hope, Sandy was enabled to
keep up the good fight until by degrees the wolves began to sneak away,
until finally the last of the savage horde had gone.
Would they ever forget that stirring night? Sandy believed nothing
could exceed the excitement through which they had just passed; but,
perhaps, if they migrated to that mysterious country beyond the great
chain of mountains, there amid new scenes he might find an opportunity
to change his mind.
Over the fire they cooked another meal of the fine venison which they
had saved from the half-starved wolves.
"And now to head for home!" cried Sandy, as he took up the pack to show
that he wished to do his share of the burden-carrying.
Forgotten were the aches of the night in the thought of once more
rejoining those so dear to them about the family hearth, where the fire
blazed in the wide-throated chimney, and the brass kettle bubbled on
the hob.
They had been tramping for half an hour, steadily onward, when Bob
called a halt, declaring that it was high time Sandy turned the bundle
of meat over to him.
This the other was really not at all loth to do, for he had been
staggering of late through the deep snow, as his burden began to tell
on him. Still, not for worlds would the proud boy have confessed that
he was actually tired.
Bob fashioned the hitch a little better, so that it would rest easier
across his shoulder. He had just leaned forward, intending to give the
bundle a sudden hoist, when he stopped in the act.
From some point not a great way off there came the sudden report of,
not a musket with its heavy boom, but a hunter's clear-toned rifle.
And accompanying the sound they caught a loud voice raised in an
excited shout, as though some one was striving against difficulties
that threatened to overcome him.