CHAPTER XVII

THANKS TO THE WOLF PACK

"WHAT have you on your mind now, Roger?" asked Dick, realizing how serious his companion had become.

As a rule Roger was a light-hearted boy, so that the change was all the more noticeable whenever he devoted himself to evolving some idea that had occurred to him.

"Oh, I was only thinking how easy it would be to get all the fresh meat we needed if only we could stay in one place," was his reply.

"What sort of fresh meat do you mean?" continued the other.

"Four different times now," explained Roger, "I have seen those big jack-rabbits jump out of some copse, or a crack in the rocks, and bound away. Each time, just from force of habit, my gun would fly to my shoulder, and I found myself covering the jumper; but of course I did not mean to pull the trigger."

"No, because our ammunition is scanty, and, if we have to fire a shot, we should bag something larger than a rabbit. But, Roger, please go on and explain what you mean."

"Only this," the other added; "we could easily make traps, and snare some of these fat rabbits if we were in camp. Keeping on as we do, that's out of the question. So, in the end, I suppose we must use our guns to bring down a deer, or a buffalo, if we have the good luck to run across one."

Mayhew came to a full stop just then.

"There is something coming this way!" he announced.

"It sounds to me as though it was a pack of excited dogs, or wolves in chase of a breakfast," said Roger, after listening a moment.

Dick nodded his head in a fashion that told that he was of the same opinion. Indeed, as the sounds were constantly growing louder, there could be little doubt concerning their origin. The snapping yelps of wolves in full cry, once heard, cannot again he easily mistaken. There is a thrilling import to the sound that goes through one like a galvanic shock.

"They must he chasing a deer," Roger hazarded.

"Yes, and heading straight this way!" added Mayhew.

"Perhaps this is the chance we have been waiting for," ventured Roger, as he handled his gun eagerly.

"No harm done in getting ready, that I can see," observed Dick, sagely.

"Let us spread out just a little," suggested Mayhew, who, being a veteran hunter, knew all about the habits of wolves when in pursuit of their quarry.

"Yes, I like that idea," agreed Dick, "for they may pass to the right or the left, and then the one on that side would get a fair shot. Remember, Roger, take your stand, and after that be sure not to move. If you did, you might cause the deer to sheer off, and us to lose our breakfast."

Mayhew stood still, while Dick hurried off to the right, and Roger took to the left, though neither of them went more than a hundred feet. In fact the clamor was drawing so close now that at any minute they might expect to catch their first glimpse of the chase.

All of them stood like statues, their eyes riveted on the quarter whence the wild yelps arose. They could hear the rush of something moving swiftly through the brush, and the sound grew constantly in volume.

Suddenly a running animal came into view, a lordly elk, Dick instantly discovered, and a buck at that. From the manner in which he ran it was evident that either the elk was lame, or else had been chased so far that he was becoming exhausted.

Close at his heels came four ferocious gray wolves. They were spinning along at top speed, their red tongues hanging from between their open jaws, where the white teeth gleamed cruelly.

The boys had run across another species of wolf since leaving their old hunting grounds near the mouth of the Missouri. This was the smaller prairie wolf, an animal akin to the coyote. But they saw at a glance that these were the large, gray timber wolves, more to be feared than any other species, especially if they were half starved.

The poor exhausted elk was apparently on his last legs. He seemed to realize this fact, too, for, as the boys waited impatiently for the chase to reach them, they saw him stumble, and fall to his knees, as he turned to face his foes.

Instantly the pack leaped upon him. One was sent whirling through the air, torn by the sharp antlers of the buck; but the others quickly had the gallant elk down on the ground.

"We must chase them off!" cried Dick, starting on the run toward the spot.

Roger and the guide followed, so that the three of them were running as fast as they could in the direction of the tragedy. They knew how quickly wolves can tear the carcass of their quarry, and realized that, if they hoped to save a portion of the elk's best quarters, they would have to hasten.

The wolves quickly discovered their presence; but they were also very loath to abandon their feast. Indeed, it seemed for a moment as though they meant to dispute the right of the newcomers to the game their cunning and ferocity had pulled down, for they crouched there, and growled, and bared their teeth as the trio approached.

"Be ready to defend yourself, Roger!" called out Dick, "but do not shoot unless it is absolutely necessary!"

The wolves realized that they must yield up their quarry unless they really meant to fight, which would be foreign to their crafty natures. Doubtless they knew that man was an enemy to be feared, even though he might only be an Indian brave, armed with his bow and flint-tipped arrows.

They accordingly retreated, though turning around from time to time as though half inclined to come back and have it out with the spoilers of their well won feast.

"We'll give you the leavings, never fear," laughed Roger, when he saw that there was a fair portion of the elk still untouched, from which they could undoubtedly obtain an ample supply of meat. They set to work with a will, and soon had obtained all they thought necessary.

All this occurred while the hungry wolves remained in sight, skulking here and there, sniffing the air in a beseeching manner, and once in a while giving vent to a plaintive howl that sounded strange, indeed, heard in the broad daylight.

No sooner did the three hunters start to leave the spot than the eager animals could be seen turning, their natural sense of caution serving to hold them back, while the pangs of hunger urged them on.

"If there had been more of them," Dick commented, "the chances are we would not have been able to take their meat without a fight."

"Even those four might have tried to scare us off if it was later in the season, when they are half starved," Mayhew told them. "Just now the wolves are fat after the fall, when hunting is good; that is, fat for their kind. But, when their flanks seem to almost meet, and they are gaunt with hunger, they make a terrible enemy to attack."

The two lads exchanged glances.

"Yes, we know, for we have been through just such an experience," said Roger, as he drew back the sleeve of his hunting tunic, to exhibit a long, red scar. "That is something I carry to remind me of the time. I sometimes dream of it, and can see the terrible mob of half-crazy wolves leaping up at my throat, while I did my best to beat them back."

"If it hadn't been for the coming of some hunters with their dogs just in the nick of time," added Dick, "I think both of us would have been pulled down and killed by that pack. It was one of our narrowest escapes."

"And we have had a good many," said Roger, smiling as his memory sped back to former scenes.

As all of them were very hungry, their one thought now was to cook some of the happily-secured meat as soon as it could be arranged.

"Here is as good a place as we can find," suggested Dick, "and, unless I am mistaken, we will be able to get what wood we want without going far for it."

"The kind that will make next to no smoke, you mean!" Roger remarked, and the other nodded.

There is a vast amount of difference in wood. Well-seasoned stuff of a certain variety will burn, and give off hardly any smoke; on the other hand, if the fuel is partly green, or obtained from a certain species of tree, it will send up a black column that can be seen a long way off.

When hunters or Indians wish to communicate with each other, even though miles apart, they take this latter kind of wood for their fire; but, when they desire to do some cooking while in the enemy's country, with keen eyes on the watch around them, it is of course necessary to attract as little attention as possible, and on that account the kind of fuel that gives out no betraying smoke is chosen.

Of course this was what Dick and his two companions now did; and also the fire was built in a depression among the rocks so that it might not be too prominent.

Here they busied themselves cooking small pieces of the elk meat. Their method of doing it was exceedingly primitive, for it was thrust close to the fire by means of long splinters of wood, and turned around until well scorched, when it was devoured with much satisfaction.

It requires a vigorous appetite to really enjoy cooking of this type. Many boys of to-day would turn up their noses at such food, and go hungry for a while, though in the end they might come around and ask for a portion.

They spent half an hour about that small cooking-fire. At the end of this time all admitted that they were satisfied, and could not eat another bite. However, at Dick's suggestion, some more of the elk meat was cooked, to serve them for a "snack" in case circumstances should not allow them to light a fire later on.

It was Dick who always thought of the future. Roger, with his happy-go-lucky ways, was, as a rule, content to consider only present necessities. When he had eaten, and felt satisfied, he did not know why any one should borrow trouble thinking of something far in the future. In fact, he generally took to heart that passage he had heard his father read from the Good Book at home, "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," and applied it to many ordinary occurrences.

After leaving the place where they had enjoyed this good breakfast, of which all of them were in such need, they laid out a course that would take them to a section of the country that they had not as yet visited.

All the time they could hear occasional strange roaring or hissing sounds that aroused the utmost curiosity, for they did not know at what moment they would come upon some new and startling mystery. This enchanted land was apparently the home of innumerable weird sights such as a white man had never before set eyes on; and, as they continued to advance, they were constantly reminded of this fact.

So, when Roger, who was a trifle in the advance, called out that they were face to face with a gigantic "paint pot," the others held their breath as they pushed on to see with their own eyes what he could mean.