THE GRAY BROTHERS
The four girls never knew how long they waited that afternoon in the
hunter's cabin. It might have been only minutes, but the minutes seemed
to drag themselves into hours. The uncertain fate of the boys, the
tragedy that surely awaited perhaps all of them made the situation
almost unbearable.
Grace piled the fireplace high with the remaining wood, but the blaze
could not keep away the chill that crept over them as the sun sank
behind the trees. They shivered and drew nearer together for comfort.
Should they ever see their four brave friends again?
And David?
Anne could endure it no longer. She rose and began to move about the
hut. There lay her coat and hat. Almost without knowing what she did she
put them on, pulled on her mittens and tied a broad, knitted muffler
around her ears.
"Girls," she said suddenly. She had gone about her preparations so
quietly the other three had not even turned to see what she was doing.
"I'm going. I don't want any of you to go with me, but I would rather
die than stay here all night without knowing what has happened to David
and the others."
"Wait a moment," cried Grace, "and I'll go, too. It would be unbearable
not to know--and if we meet the wolves, why, then, as Tom said, we can
climb a tree. Poor Tom!" she added sadly. "I wonder where he is now."
Nora and Jessica rose hastily.
"Do you think I'd stay?" cried Nora. "Not in a thousand years!"
"Anything is better than this," exclaimed Jessica, as she drew on her
wraps and prepared to follow her friends into the woods.
Grace opened the door, peering out into the gathering darkness.
"There is not a living thing in sight," she said. "We'd better hurry,
girls; it will soon be dark." Then the four young girls started down the
trail and were soon out of sight.
When Tom Gray left old Jean's hut, with nothing between him and the
ravenous wolves, except the angle of a wall, he took a long, gliding
step, his body swinging gracefully with the motion, and was off like the
wind, under a broad avenue of trees. But he had not gone far before one
of the straps loosened and his foot slipped. He fell headlong, but was
up instantly.
It took a few moments to tighten the strap, and it must have been then
that the wolves caught the scent, and after hurriedly finishing the meal
in hand, galloped off for another without taking the slightest notice of
the fox skin that Reddy had tossed to them. Tom made a fresh start,
feeling more confident on his feet than he had at first, and he was well
under way when he heard the howl of the wolves behind him. Gathering all
his energies together he managed to keep ahead of them until the woods
became less dense, and he saw through the interlacing branches the open
meadows and fields.
"They are too hungry to leave off now," he said to himself as he
hurriedly searched the valley below for the nearest farmhouse. In front
of him was a very high, steep hill, that same hill, in fact, where
Nora's coasting party had taken place. Glancing behind him, he caught a
glimpse of the gray brothers trotting through the forest.
"I'll take the hill," he thought. "It's quickest and there must be some
kind of a refuge below." With long, swift glides he reached the knob
which had hidden Miriam's sled from view as she bore down on Anne the
night of the coasting party.
The wolves were right behind him now, and unless something turned up he
hardly dared think what would happen.
But Tom Gray had always possessed an indomitable belief that things
would turn out all right. It seemed absurd to him that he was to be food
for wolves when he had still a long and delightful life before him.
Certainly he would not give up without a struggle.
Perhaps it was this fine confidence that his destiny was not yet
completed that gave him the strength which now promised to save him. As
he fled down the hill he saw below an old oak tree whose first branches
had been lopped off. Exerting every atom of strength in him, just as he
reached the bottom Tom gave a leap. He caught the lowest limb with one
hand, pulled himself up and calmly took his seat in the crotch of the
tree.
He was just in time. The wolves were at his heels, snarling and snapping
like angry dogs. The boy regarded them from his safe perch and burst out
laughing.
[Illustration: Tom Gray Escapes from the Wolves.]
"So I fooled you, did I, you gray rascals?" he said aloud. "You think
you'll keep me here all night, do you, old hounds? Well, we'll see who
wins out in the long run."
Meanwhile, the wolves ran about howling disconsolately while Tom sat in
the branches of the tree, rubbing his hands and arms to keep warm. He
had removed the snowshoes and was just contemplating climbing to the top
of the tree to keep his blood circulating, when three figures appeared
on the brow of the hill.
"As I live, it's the boys," he said to himself. "Go back!" he yelled,
waving a red silk muffler. "Climb a tree quickly!"
They had seen and heard him, and making for the nearest tree, each
shinned up as fast as he could.
"Here's a howdy-do," said Tom to himself. "Four boys treed by wolves and
night coming on."
Yet he swung his legs and whistled thoughtfully, while the others
shouted to him, but he could not hear what they said, for the wind was
blowing away from him. In the meantime the wolves did not all desert him
and he could only wait patiently, with the others, for something to turn
up.
What did turn up was a good deal of a shock to all of them.
Grace, Jessica, Nora and Anne suddenly emerged from the forest, standing
out in bold relief on the brow of the hill.
The three boys at the top of the hill all jumped to the ground at once.
"Run for the trees," cried David, for the wolves had caught the new
scent and had started toward them on a dead run.
"Crack, crack," went a rifle. Instantly the first wolf staggered and
fell backward.
How was it that the boys had not noticed before that the girls were not
alone?
Another shot and a second wolf ran almost into their midst, gave a leap
and fell dead. One more dropped; and the sole surviving wolf beat a
frenzied retreat.
"We found old Jean!" cried Grace. "Wasn't it the most fortunate thing in
the world? And now nobody is killed and we are all safe and I'm so
happy!" She gave the old hunter's arm a squeeze.
Old Jean, enveloped in skins from top to toe, smiled good-naturedly.
"It was the Bon Dieu, mademoiselle, who have preserve you. Do not t'ank
ole Jean. It was the Bon Dieu who put it in ole Jean's haid to set
rabbit trap to-night."
He would accept neither money nor thanks for shooting the wolves.
"I will skin them. It is sufficient."
It was not long before eight very tired and very happy young people were
seated around Mrs. Gray's dinner table. Grace was a little choky and
homesick for her mother, now that all the danger was over, but the week
of the house party was almost up, so she concealed her impatience to be
home again.
The softly shaded candles shed a warm glow over their faces, and the
logs crackled on the brass andirons. They looked into each others' eyes
and smiled sleepily.
Had it all been a dream, their winter picnic, or was old Jean at that
very moment really nailing wolf skins to his wall?