DANGEROUS BUSINESS
The Indian who had promised to provide the boys with caribou meat had not
deceived them. At the appointed hour he had returned with an abundant
supply.
In his eagerness to secure provisions for a long lap of the journey, Joe
had piled his sled high with meat. In doing this he had made a mistake,
but this he did not know at the time.
Having paid the Indian, he lashed his rifle to the top of the load, and,
shouting to his dogs, went racing away after his companions.
The short day was nearing its close when, on passing a turn in the trail,
Joe found himself swinging out of the forest into an open stretch of wild
meadow.
He had hardly made a hundred rods of this open trail when he heard a
sharp howl which came from the edge of the forest.
“Wolves!” he muttered. “Caught the scent of this meat. Indians say it has
been a bad winter for wolves. Starving, I guess. Well, we’ll show those
boys our heels.”
Reaching out to the sled as he traveled forward, he unlashed his rifle
and threw it across his arm. As he did so, he caught his breath. There
were, he suddenly remembered, but four cartridges in the rifle and none
on the sled. Their supply of ammunition was on Curlie’s sled.
Shouting at the dogs, he gripped the handle of the sled with one hand and
with the rifle poised in the other, went pit-patting along over the
trail.
He had reached the center of the open space and was hoping to arrive at
the forest soon and find the others encamped there, when tragedy suddenly
descended upon him.
A dull crash was followed by a sickening thud. The sled, having been
twisted sideways in crossing a dry ravine, had crumpled down. Springing
forward, the boy found that all the lashings and braces of one runner
were torn away.
“Smashed beyond repair,” he muttered. “Now how am I going to get that
meat to camp?”
He thought of unhitching the dogs and of clinging to the main draw rope
as he raced away to his friends for aid. This thought was speedily
banished when a dismal, long-drawn howl came from the edge of the forest.
“Wolves,” he muttered. “They’d eat it all.”
He thought of making the canvas covering of his pack into an improvised
sled and placing the meat upon it, of hitching the dogs to that.
“Don’t believe they could haul it,” he decided. “The trail’s too narrow.
Snow on sides is too deep.”
Again there came the dismal howl. This time it was followed by a
yap-yap-yap. To the boy’s consternation, this yapping was answered from a
dozen points at once.
“Lot of them out there. Gaunt, hungry beasts. Dangerous, I guess.”
Again he thought of the four cartridges. They were not enough. He might
be obliged to cut his team loose and make a dash for it.
The dogs heard the challenging call from the wild creatures of the forest
and bunched together as if for defense. Their manes stood straight up.
The leader, a part-hound, was growling in a low tone, as if talking to
himself.
This team of five dogs which Joe drove was a pick-up team. Besides the
part-hound leader, there was one huskie and three dogs of uncertain
breed. The huskie’s team mate, Sport, was slight of build and inclined to
shirk. The two “wheel-horses” were short, stocky fellows who worked well
in traces and showed signs of being good fighters.
Like some scout preparing for an Indian attack, Joe now loosened the
dogs’ traces from the sled. But that they might not rush out heedless of
danger to be cut up by the merciless fangs of the wolves he chained each
dog to the sled.
“Time enough to let you at them later,” he murmured. He felt a certain
amount of security in their companionship.
Just what he meant to do, he did not for the moment know. Darkness had
fallen. Like twin glowworms, the eyes of the wolves shone at the edge of
the forest. Already some of them were creeping out into the open. There
were a number of them; just how many he could not tell.
“The one that sent out the call was probably the daddy of a large
family,” he told himself, “and he’s invited the whole family to a feast.
But,” he said as he set his teeth hard, “there won’t be any feast if I
can help it.”
Leaning his rifle against the sled, he dropped his chin on his hands to
lapse into deep thought. Then suddenly he leaped into action.
“Why didn’t I think of that before?” he exclaimed as he tore at the
wrappings of the sled.
He had thought of the radiophone equipment packed away on his sled, the
reserve outfit which always rode there.
“If I can only get it set up,” he told himself, “I’ll be able to call
Curlie. Then he and Jennings will make a dash for it. With rifles and
plenty of ammunition they’ll beat the wolves off. We’ll feed some of
their carcasses to the dogs and have that much more caribou meat for
ourselves.”
His fingers trembled as he unpacked the detector and set it firmly upon
the overturned sled. He had caught the gleam of a pair of flashing eyes
much closer than he had thought the wolves would dare to come. He had
caught, too, the ominous sound of chop-chopping jaws. Pete, the huskie,
was ki-yi-ing and straining at his chain. Major, the dog who always
guarded the sled at night, was sending forth a low rumbling challenge.
As Joe set his amplifier into position, he sent a flash of light from his
electric torch full upon one of those gray beasts. The wolf, recoiling as
if shot by a rifle, doubled into a heap, then sprang snarling away.
Joe laughed at this wild demonstration of fear. The next instant his face
sobered. He was surprised at the size of these timber wolves and at their
gauntness.
“Starved to skin and bones. Ready for anything,” he muttered grimly as he
set two jointed poles straight up in the snow.
From the top of these poles hung suspended his coil aerial. There
remained but to connect the batteries. He was bent over the sled, intent
upon making these connections secure, when he was startled by a mad chop
of jaws directly behind him. The next instant there was a wild whirling
of legs and fur, as Major engaged a wolf in combat.
Snatching his rifle, Joe stood ready to do deadly execution once the
combatants separated.
“But only four cartridges,” he breathed, “and my call for help not yet
sent.” His heart sank.