THE HOWL OF THE WOLF
The lake was small and it was closely surrounded by a ring of
guardian trees. In that limited space it would take first class
airmanship to make a safe landing.
Slim Tyler encircled the clearing several times, checking the speed
of the plane and judging the distance by his eyes.
Then he made up his mind, shifted the controls, and the plane swept
downward, the wheels crunching in the snow to the heavy ice beneath.
The _Hope_ teetered uncertainly for a moment, righted, and swept on
toward the trees on the bank.
For a flashing fraction of a second it seemed that she would rush
into the trees and be wrecked. But once more Dave Boyd's faith in
his pupil was justified.
With consummate skill Slim Tyler swung the plane around and sped
about the lake in a circle, until the momentum lessened and the tired
bird came finally to rest.
The young aviators climbed stiffly from the plane, slapping their
numbed hands together to restore the circulation. They pounded their
feet on the ice, only now beginning to realize how bitterly cold they
were.
"A fire would feel mighty good," said Jerry Marbury, brushing the
snow from his eyes. "My ears feel frostbitten."
"Same here," echoed Dick. "I'm all for Jerry's suggestion."
"Suits me," agreed Slim. "Only if we have to camp here all night,
which seems very likely, it might be a good idea to find a more
sheltered place to build our fire."
They tramped off into the surrounding woods, hoping to find a cave or
overhanging rocks that would serve as partial shelter from the
severity of the storm.
But something better than that was in store for them. They had not
gone far before they discovered a tumbledown shack that had probably
been occupied at some time by a trapper or a party of trappers.
It was dilapidated enough, in all conscience, but to the cold and
weary travelers a palace could scarcely have provided a more
attractive sight. It meant at least shelter from the snow and a
barrier against the wind.
The hut had a roof, though there were gaping holes in it. The one
window had been boarded up. The door hung loosely on its rusted
hinges.
"Guess we won't have to knock," observed Slim lightly, as he placed
his hand on the knob of the door. "Looks as though there had been
nobody at home here for a long, long time."
The door yielded easily.
The young men crowded in, stamping the snow from their boots, and
looked around them.
They found that the cabin consisted of one fair-sized room, with a
lean-to adjoining; a typical trappers' abode.
Bunks stretched along two sides of the room; beneath the boarded
window on the third side was a rough table of logs with a pine top;
on the fourth side was a fireplace which looked as though it had been
in disuse for a long time and a couple of rude chairs.
The fireplace, in the estimation of the young adventurers, was by far
the most important object in the place.
"Now if we can only find some dry wood," observed Dick, "everything
will be great."
He pushed open the door at the farther end of the cabin and disclosed
a well-stocked lean-to. One end of it was packed almost to the roof
with log blocks and smaller pieces of wood.
There were two shelves, upon which were some unopened packages of
canned goods.
"Looks as though we'd neither starve nor freeze while we're here,"
exulted Jerry.
He fell upon the wood, scooping up an armful and carried it into the
main room.
His companions followed his example, and it was not long before a
comforting fire roared in the fireplace.
"I'll be chef, fellows," said Slim, as he went to the lean-to door.
"Come and name your poison."
They decided upon beans and tinned corn beef. The beans they warmed
over the fire and ate out of the can. The beef they picked up with
their fingers and ate with relish, smacking their lips over the
impromptu meal.
The storm was now much less severe than it had been when they first
stumbled upon the cabin. The snow had almost stopped, and the heavy
clouds in the east had lifted perceptibly.
"I was afraid the _Hope_ might be snowed under," Slim remarked. "I
guess there's no danger of that now."
They walked back to the lake and found the plane as they had left it,
except that the coating of ice and snow on the wings was heavier.
They scraped this off and covered the wings with tarpaulins.
They debated starting again at once, but more prudent counsel
prevailed. The night had now fully come.
"Bad enough to take off from here in full daylight, let alone at
night," judged the young leader of the expedition. "We'll start off
at the first streak of dawn if conditions permit."
Slim Tyler came to this decision with the utmost reluctance, for he
was consumed with anxiety to reach his destination at the earliest
possible moment. But this was a case where caution promised
decidedly better results than precipitate courage.
"Better take our guns with us," Slim counseled, as he reached into
the plane and drew out his own rifle. "Little likelihood that we'll
have to use them, but they're handy things to have."
His companions also secured their weapons, and the little party
retraced its steps to the cabin.
The night would have been one of Egyptian darkness had it not been
for the faint glimmer of the snow, for the clouds effectively barred
the rays of moon or stars.
The forest seemed suddenly a dangerous and menacing place. Behind
the trees that stood like gaunt sentinels above the snow, any furtive
thing might lurk. There was something sinister and repellent in
their very silence.
Once Slim Tyler stopped short and stared at a clump of bushes.
"What's wrong?" asked Jerry.
"There was something behind those bushes. I distinctly saw it move,"
declared Slim.
Seeing that Dick and Jerry were inclined to scoff, Slim did not
insist. In his own mind, however, he was convinced that he had not
been mistaken. His eyes had always been reliable, and he saw no
reason to doubt them now.
When Dick Mylert paused before the door of the cabin to examine some
freshly made tracks in the snow, Slim was not surprised.
"Dog tracks!" cried the young newspaperman.
"Timber wolves!" corrected Slim.
At those ominous words Jerry came up to Slim and Dick, and also bent
to examine the tracks in the snow. He gave a long whistle as he
straightened up and glanced uneasily about him.
"By Jove, Slim!" he cried, "I believe you're right. Timber wolves,
and savage, I'll be bound! This snow has made it hard for them to
find game. Probably regard us as a godsend."
"Lucky we brought our firearms along," observed Slim. "We'll be safe
enough inside the cabin with the door barricaded."
The interior of the cabin in the flickering of the firelight offered
a cheering contrast to the dark and menacing forest that surrounded
it.
The young men fitted the rather unstable door into place and dropped
the wooden bar that served as bolt. Then they moved the heavy table
against the door as an additional barrier.
"That door as a door may not be worth much," commented Dick, "but it
would take a life-sized pack of wolves to shove that table away."
"The roof isn't much as a roof, either," added Slim. "But I guess,
if it can hold all that weight of snow, it will stand a few extra
pounds of wolf, if they should try to get in that way."
"They can't come down the chimney as long as we keep a fire going,
and the window is already boarded up," Jerry comforted himself. "All
we have to do now is to sit down and wait for the show to commence."
To sit and wait, however, was a more nerve-racking business than they
had anticipated. As the darkness settled down more thickly over the
forest, the intense silence about the cabin became oppressive. Now
and then the sharp crackling of a frost-snapped twig or a slide of
snow from the roof would cause them to start involuntarily and then
exchange apologetic glances.
"If we could strike a light, it would be a little more cheerful,"
remarked Jerry.
A lantern depended from a hook on the wall, but upon examination they
found that this was innocent of oil.
They searched the lean-to for kerosene and failed to find any, though
they did come across two fat tallow candles.
They lighted these, using the drip to fasten them to the rough top of
the table.
The light was faint and flickering and seemed to accentuate the
shadows in the corners of the room. No one cared to mention the
fact, however, for fear of betraying his own restlessness.
"I only hope Dave Boyd to-night is as warm and sheltered as we are,"
remarked Slim, from whom the thought of his benefactor was seldom
absent.
"I suppose there are plenty of poor fellows out in the Arctic night
that would give their souls for a fire and a meal of hot food,"
conjectured Dick. He paused, hand raised.
"What's that?" he cried.
From the depths of the forest came the blood-curdling howl of a wolf!
From a distance the cry of the wolf was answered, now from one
direction, then from another.
"The pack is gathering," remarked Jerry Marbury grimly. "Well, let
'em come. We're ready for them."