Short as had been the time which had elapsed since they had fallen,
other wolves had stolen out, and had dragged away the bodies of the two
which had been killed. This incident, which showed how extreme was the
hunger of the wolves, and how noiseless were their motions, redoubled
the vigilance of the party.
Malchus threw a handful of brushwood on to each of the fires.
"We must be careful of the fuel," Halcon said. "I would we had thought
of this before we lay down to sleep. If we had collected wood enough
for our fires we should have been safe; but I doubt much if our supply
will last till morning."
As the hours went on, the attitude of the wolves became more and more
threatening, and in strong bodies they advanced close up to the fires.
Every time that they did so armfuls of fuel were thrown on the fires.
As the flames leapt up brightly they each time fell back, losing several
of their numbers from the arrows of the little party. But the pile of
fuel was now sinking fast, and except when the wolves advanced it was
necessary to let the fires burn down.
"It must want four hours yet of daylight," Halcon said, as he threw on
the last piece of wood. "Look round as the fire blazes up and see if
you can make out any tree which may be climbed. I would that we had
taken to them at first instead of trusting to our fires."
Unfortunately they had chosen a somewhat open space of ground for their
encampment, for the brushwood grew thick among the trees.
"There is a tree over there," Malchus said, pointing to it, "with a
bough but six feet from the ground. One spring on to that and we are
safe."
"Very well," Halcon assented; "we will attempt it at once before the
fire burns low. Put your swords into your sheaths, sling your bows and
arrows behind you, and take each a burning brand. These will be better
weapons in such a case than swords or spears. Now, are you ready?
Now!"
Waving the burning brands over their heads, the three Carthaginians
dashed towards the tree.
It seemed as if the wolves were conscious that their prey were
attempting to escape them; for, with a fierce howl, they sprang from the
bushes and rushed to meet them; and, heedless of the blazing brands,
sprang upon them.
Malchus scarce knew what passed in the short fierce struggle. One wolf
sprang upon his shield and nearly brought him to the ground; but the
sharp boss pierced its body, and he flung it from him, at the same
moment that he dashed the brand full in the face of another. A third
sprang upon his shoulder, and he felt its hot breath in his face.
Dropping his brand, he drove his dagger deep into its side. Then he
hurled his heavy shield among the mass of wolves before him, took a
bound into their midst, and grasping the bough, swung himself into the
tree and sat there with his legs drawn up as a score of wolves leapt up
towards him with open mouths.
He gave a cry of horror. His two friends were down, and a confused mass
of struggling bodies alone showed where they had fallen. For an instant
he hesitated, debating whether he should leap down and strive to rescue
them; but a glance below showed him that he would be pulled down long
before he could reach the spot where they had fallen.
Shifting himself along the arm until he reached the trunk, he rose to
his feet and sent his arrows vengefully into the midst of the struggling
mass of wolves until he had but three or four shafts left. These he
reserved as a last resource.