THE GRAY-COATED PIRATE FROM CANADA
“Well,” observed Bluff contentedly, “believe me, a fire is a bully
thing to hug up to on a night like this. I always did have a sneaking
fancy for a crackling blaze, and now I’m more in love with this one of
ours than I could tell you.”
“Hark to that, would you!” exclaimed Jerry, suddenly sitting up
straight and turning his head to one side, as though straining his
hearing to catch a repetition of the sound.
“Now, what do you think you heard?” asked Bluff, more or less
interested, but still showing no signs of alarm.
“That’s what I’d like to know. Seemed like a howl of some kind.”
“I thought that wolf business would get on your nerves before long,”
chuckled the other boy.
“But you said yourself that on a stormy night like this beasts of prey
are apt to be unusually fierce,” protested Jerry.
“That’s right,” he was told; “but even then it doesn’t mean every
whoop of the wind through the trees is a wolf giving tongue. Of
course, I don’t say you didn’t hear one, but chances are ten to one
against it.”
“Well, it hasn’t come again, so far, and I hope it won’t, that’s all,”
said the still unconvinced Jerry.
Every once in a while he would go to the opening in front and look
out. Of course, the fire needed more or less attention, as Bluff well
knew; nevertheless, he felt pretty certain that Jerry was influenced
by his fears of an invasion rather than any desire to throw on the
additional fuel.
The time dragged along. So far as they could tell, there did not
appear to be any let-up to the fury of the storm. There were many open
chinks in their barricade, as might be expected, since it was composed
of branches and such stuff as lay around at the time they made their
roof and the sides to the cover.
Driven by the fierce wind, the fine powdery snow managed to penetrate
more or less, so that they could feel it against their faces.
Unpleasant as this might appear, it was not to be complained of when
they realized the discomfort and danger that would have been their lot
if compelled to remain out in the open.
After a long time they found their eyes getting heavy. While it was
next to impossible to get any sound sleep, they might take what Bluff
called “cat-naps,” rousing themselves every little while so as to
change their cramped position and perhaps cast more wood on the fire.
Jerry remembered that it was immediately after he had taken the
longest doze of any that he heard something that thrilled him.
He raised his head to listen, and then kicked his companion in the
calf of the leg. Bluff only grunted, possibly believing, if he thought
anything at all, it might be only an accident.
“Bluff—oh, Bluff!”
Now he caught the sound of Jerry’s voice close to his ear, and it was
accompanied by yet another prod with his toe, this time of a more
vigorous nature than before.
“Hey! What ails you, Jerry? If you can’t sleep, what’s the need of
punching me that way?” grumbled Bluff.
“But I tell you there _is_ something trying to get in here!!”
argued the other.
At that, Bluff condescended to slightly raise his head. He was more
awake by now, for he realized that Jerry was in earnest.
“I don’t see anything but that our fire is going down some. Now I’m
roused up, I guess I’d better put on more stuff,” he remarked
sleepily, as he started to sit up.
“Watch back there and you’ll see, I tell you!” And Jerry pointed
toward the side of their weak barricade, where it joined the upturned
roots and frozen soil.
Having his attention pivoted upon the one particular spot, Bluff was
not long in making a surprising discovery.
“By Jinks, it does seem to be moving!” he admitted. “Wonder now if
that could be only the wind?”
“But, don’t you see, the wind has died out. And, say, that noise
sounds for all the world like a dog trying to dig his way through. I
tell you, Bluff, they’re coming in after us—the wolves, I mean!”
This time Bluff did not laugh. Instead, he put out a hand and
commenced to fumble around him. Jerry knew he was searching for his
rifle, and he hastened to take a firmer grip on his own weapon, which
he was holding at the time.
The scratching noise continued, with but slight intermissions. They
could also see even in that uncertain light that the animal was by
degrees demolishing the flimsy shelter at the place where he had
attacked it.
Then something that glowed like two coals of yellow fire appeared.
Jerry caught his breath, and stared as though fascinated. He knew that
those strange objects were the flaming eyes of the bold wolf that
thought to steal this march upon them.
The animal had been afraid to enter the shelter on the side where the
fire smoldered. Urged on by hunger, he had thought to tear a hole in
the wall and attack those within.
Had either of the boys been better versed in the nature and habits of
wolves, they must have known that only when half famished would these
skulkers of the Canadian forests make bold enough to attack human
beings.
Neither of the boys bothered about anything just then save the fact
that they were threatened by a savage enemy and had better take
immediate measures looking to self-protection.
Jerry felt rather than saw his companion start to raise his gun.
“Oh, Bluff, please don’t!” he cried hurriedly.
“Why, what’s the matter?” replied the other. “The sooner we let Mr.
Wolf know we’re at home and ready to give him and his kind a warm
reception, the better for us. Let go my arm, can’t you? I want to send
a bullet between those two eyes.”
“But, Bluff, it isn’t fair!” protested the other boy, while the wolf,
if it was one, had fallen to scratching again, apparently not
intimidated by the muttering of voices within.
“Hey, tell me what you mean, can’t you?” Bluff demanded indignantly,
wondering at the same time whether his chum could have gone out of his
mind because of the sudden awakening and the threatening peril.
“It’s my wolf, Bluff; didn’t I discover him first?” Jerry continued,
still holding tenaciously on to the arm of the other, as though to add
force to his argument.
At that Bluff laughed softly.
“Oh, that’s what’s ailing you, is it?” he ventured to say. “Like as
not you feel as if you ought to be the one to knock him over, eh?
Well, get your gun!”
“I have, already. Tell me when it’s time for me to let go!” And,
having received the commission to act, Jerry no longer kept an eager
grip on the sleeve of his comrade’s coat.
“I might give a whoop, which is apt to make the beast look in on us
again,” was Bluff’s reply. “Keep your gun leveled, so as to let drive
as soon as you glimpse his eyes. Right between them, remember.”
“I will, and thank you for giving me first chance. But hark to what’s
going on out there now. Whew! Sounds as if there might be more’n one
wolf waiting to jump in here on us.”
“It’s snarling and scrapping, as sure as you’re born,” admitted the
second boy, as he managed to hold his gun in readiness. “Tell you what
I’ll do, Jerry.”
“Yes, go on then,” said the other eagerly.
“Just as soon as you blaze away, I’ll be ready to jump outside, gun in
hand.”
“What for?”
“So as to try to get another crack at some of the other critters.
They’ll turn tail, and run a little way off after the crash of the gun
inside here and seeing their mate keel over. But it may be light
enough for me to see to bowl over one on my own account.”
“I understand now. Do whatever you think best. And just as soon as
I’ve pulled the trigger I think I’ll climb out after you.”
“Not a bad idea,” admitted the other; “but now get ready, for I’m
going to let out a yell to see what happens.”
Bluff had managed to scramble into a position that gave him a better
opportunity to gain his feet in a hurry. He knew there would be
considerable need of haste in making his exit, if he hoped to glimpse
any of the vanishing wolves after they had been alarmed by the gunshot
within the pit.
“Go on!” urged the nervous Jerry, with raised gun, and his eyes fixed
on the particular spot where the intruder was again busily at work.
The shout Bluff gave was indeed enough to attract attention. They
could hear a movement outside the shelter, as though the invaders had
started to retreat, only to come back again, as determined as ever.
Jerry was waiting. All he wanted was just a glimpse of the twin balls
of fire not six feet away, when he stood ready to do the duty he had
begged Bluff to give into his hands.
It speedily came to him. First he saw a movement about the small gap
that had already been made in the wall of branches. Then a nose was
rudely thrust into the aperture, as the daring wolf feasted his eyes
on the figures of the two lads.
Bang! went Jerry’s rifle, fired point-blank. Instantly the other boy
was in motion, and scrambling to get up out of the hole on the side of
the opening and the dwindling fire.
As he passed this bed of red embers, he gave a kick that sent some
small bits of fuel into the mass. The object of this, of course, was
to try and coax a slight uplift in the way of a blaze that might be of
assistance to him in sighting the fleeing wolves.
Jerry, almost stunned by the violence of the report in such confined
quarters, did his best to follow at the heels of his chum. His heart
was beating three times as fast as ordinary. Perhaps he anticipated
finding his bold comrade battling for his life with a horde of hungry
gray-coated animals and in need of such help as he might render.
Jerry heard a gun sound even as he was climbing up the little incline
that marked the border of their depressed camp. Bluff gave a series of
shouts at the same time; somehow these did not impress Jerry as cries
for aid, but rather given in derision, and to add to the speed of the
wolves’ retreat.
Yes, there was Bluff standing staring into the white bank of falling
snow, while holding his gun in readiness to repeat his shot, if
necessary.
“Did you get one?” cried Jerry eagerly.
“I hardly think so,” the other replied dejectedly. “You see, they were
a little too fast for me. When I got on my feet out here I could just
see something darker than the snow on the point of disappearing. I
pulled on it as quick as I could; but the chances are I didn’t more
than wound him, even if I managed that.”
“But they’re gone away, Bluff!”
“Seems like it,” returned Bluff.
“I only hope they’ve had enough of it, and will fight shy of our camp
the rest of the night,” ventured Jerry.
“Guess you got your fellow, all right,” observed the other boy.
That caused Jerry to turn toward the snow-covered shelter. The fire
was now burning briskly for the time being, and it was possible to see
without much difficulty.
“Oh, do you think I did?” exclaimed the marksman. “Let’s find out.
And, say, if I turned him over, I’d like first rate to save his hide
for a mat. A wolfskin makes the finest kind of a footmat, you know;
and it’d be great to know every time you stood on it that you had won
it fair and square.”
They were by this time standing over the fallen animal. It lay
stretched out on the snow, and was apparently dead.
“Looks like a pretty big wolf to me,” ventured Jerry, feeling the
thrill of satisfaction that comes to every hunter when he has by good
luck or superior marksmanship managed to bring down his quarry.
“He is a buster, sure enough,” said Bluff; “in fact, I never saw a
bigger one, either in captivity or running wild. I’d hate to tackle
such a beast hand to hand. See his white teeth, will you! Don’t they
look ferocious, though? Here, give me your gun, if so be you mean to
lug him into the shelter with us.”
“I only want to do that to save the skin, you see,” explained Jerry,
as he started to comply.
“Well, I reckon you’re wise,” Bluff remarked, “because if his mates
are as hungry as he seemed to be, chances are they’ll sneak back and
carry the body away, so’s to make a meal off it.”
While it was not as pleasant as it might be, having that four-footed
wood pirate inside with them, Bluff made no remonstrance. He saw that
it pleased Jerry to anticipate getting the skin of the wolf to keep as
a memento of the strange adventure; and Bluff could be one of the most
accommodating fellows ever known when he felt so disposed.
So once more the boys made themselves fairly comfortable, after the
fire had been renewed, and between listening and dozing the long hours
passed away.