The Camp in the Snow Part 8

He poked his shotgun out, and fired both barrels. Jerry joined in with a rattling fusillade.

"That hit something," he shouted. "Half a dozen of the varmints were scratching at the sled. I thought it would give way."

"We'll beat them off yet," gasped Brick. "Aren't they savage, though?

They don't mind the fire a bit. Hullo! there's a paw sticking through.

Take that."

"That" was a well-delivered charge of buckshot between the timbers of the cabin. A yelp of agony followed the report.

"Good!" applauded Jerry. "You'll do."

"Keep it up, fellows," yelled Hamp. "Plenty of powder and shot will tell. There, the brutes are falling back a little."

Hamp was right. The scratching at the cabin now ceased. But the hungry pack were loth to abandon their prey. Still they scurried here and there. From the opening the boys could see the sinewy bodies and the gleaming eyes. Above the din of yelps and howls a shriller sound occasionally rose.

It was probably the screech of the worsted catamount.

"Keep all the guns loaded," cautioned Jerry. "I don't believe we'll have to do much more shooting, though. We've taught the wolves a bitter lesson. They know they can't make a meal of us."

But he had barely spoken when a scratching noise was heard overhead. The entire cabin seemed to totter and sway.

"The pack are on the roof," cried Brick. "They must have climbed over the rocks. Everything will be down on us in a minute."

"At least three or four of the brutes are there," declared Hamp. "Just hear them digging. Let's all fire together."

But before a single weapon could be raised the flimsy roof parted in the center with a dull, ripping noise. Through the gap tumbled a heap of snow from the trees above, and then followed a snapping, snarling wolf, landing squarely upon the terrified boys.

CHAPTER VII.

THROUGH THE ICE.

Happily, the wolf was not the least frightened member of the party. His plunge through s.p.a.ce had been unintentional, and when he rolled off into one corner of the cabin he gave a howl of terror.

Brick and Hamp gathered themselves up from the pine boughs, where the blow had tumbled them. They felt sure that they were lost; they expected to be instantly torn limb from limb.

"Stand aside!" yelled Jerry, as he stepped in front of his companions.

There was no time to shoot, for the wolf had turned in desperation, and was in the act of rushing at his enemies.

Jerry clubbed his rifle and let drive. Thud! the heavy stock landed on the brute's head, and tumbled him over in a heap.

"Hurrah!" shouted Hamp and Brick, in one breath, as they rushed to the attack.

The wolf was a tenacious fellow, and he struggled desperately to rise.

Sorely wounded though he was, he actually managed to get upon his feet.

Then a charge of buckshot from Jerry's gun, settled him for good and all, and he rolled over lifeless.

The whole affair transpired in about a minute, and the plucky lads next turned their attention to the peril that threatened them from overhead.

Two howling brutes were digging and tearing at the hole in the roof.

Their lolling red tongues and white teeth glistened in the firelight.

The rest of the pack yelped and scurried around the cabin, as though they knew that the feast would soon be ready.

"We'll fix those fellows, never fear," panted Jerry.

He and Hamp lifted their shotguns, and fired together, straight at the glaring eyes and hungry jaws.

With a yelp of agony one of the brutes rolled from the roof, and crashed heavily to the ground. The other was invisible when the smoke cleared; he must have leaped back upon the rock.

The boys were cheered by their victory. They reloaded their weapons and waited, keeping an eye on all vulnerable spots.

"This will be something worth remembering, if we come through it all right," said Brick.

"Morning can't be many hours off," added Hamp. "The pack will be sure to go then."

But the brave lads were spared the horrors of a further siege. All at once the wolves became strangely silent, and the boys heard a rushing noise far back in the forest, mingled with a chorus of faint howls.

The sound came closer, and then veered off in another direction, growing more and more indistinct.

"Listen!" whispered Jerry, holding up a warning finger. "There goes another pack of wolves--after a deer or something. Hear them tear through the forest. I'm glad they're not headed this way."

"So am I," a.s.sented Brick. "Hullo! what's up now?"

"The siege," shouted Jerry, and the witticism proved indeed true.

The pack around the cabin gave voice to the fading howls of their kindred, and then scurried off into the forest at full tear.

For a time the lads could scarcely realize their good fortune. Then, with thankful hearts, they pulled the sled away from the door, and crept out.

The fire had burnt low, and they hurriedly stacked it with fresh fuel.

Two dead wolves lay in the ravine, and the one inside the cabin made three. The bodies were dragged down the hollow, and pitched into a gully between two rocks.

"Let them lay there for the present," said Jerry. "In the morning I'll take the scalps off. We'll get bounty for them."

Encouraged by the brightness of the fire, the boys crept up the slope, and looked at the picked bones of the deer, and at the wolves that the catamount had killed.

"Pretty clean work," observed Hamp. "I don't care to stay here long, though. The catamount may pounce on us at any minute. There's the tree he jumped into."

"But he's not there now," replied Jerry. "I think he's had enough of this locality, and won't trouble us any more. No danger of the wolves coming back, either."

"There is, if the severe weather keeps up," said Hamp, as they returned to the fire. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to cross the lake again, and do our hunting between Moosehead and Chesumcook. This neighborhood is too near Canada and the home of the wolves for me."

"For me, too," added Brick, uneasily.

"Well, I don't suppose you fellows want to move to-night," declared Jerry. "We can talk about it in the morning. I think I could sleep for twenty-four hours straight ahead now."