CHAPTER XXII—THE GRAY-COATED PIRATE FROM CANADA
“Well,” observed Bluff contentedly, “believe me, a fire is a bully thing to hug up to on a night like this. I always did have a sneaking fancy for a crackling blaze, and now I’m more in love with this one of ours than I could tell you.”
“Hark to that, would you!” exclaimed Jerry, suddenly sitting up straight and turning his head to one side, as though straining his hearing to catch a repetition of the sound.
“Now, what do you think you heard?” asked Bluff, more or less interested, but still showing no signs of alarm.
“That’s what I’d like to know. Seemed like a howl of some kind.”
“I thought that wolf business would get on your nerves before long,” chuckled the other boy.
“But you said yourself that on a stormy night like this beasts of prey are apt to be unusually fierce,” protested Jerry.
“That’s right,” he was told; “but even then it doesn’t mean every whoop of the wind through the trees is a wolf giving tongue. Of course, I don’t say you didn’t hear one, but chances are ten to one against it.”
“Well, it hasn’t come again, so far, and I hope it won’t, that’s all,” said the still unconvinced Jerry.
Every once in a while he would go to the opening in front and look out. Of course, the fire needed more or less attention, as Bluff well knew; nevertheless, he felt pretty certain that Jerry was influenced by his fears of an invasion rather than any desire to throw on the additional fuel.
The time dragged along. So far as they could tell, there did not appear to be any let-up to the fury of the storm. There were many open chinks in their barricade, as might be expected, since it was composed of branches and such stuff as lay around at the time they made their roof and the sides to the cover.
Driven by the fierce wind, the fine powdery snow managed to penetrate more or less, so that they could feel it against their faces. Unpleasant as this might appear, it was not to be complained of when they realized the discomfort and danger that would have been their lot if compelled to remain out in the open.
After a long time they found their eyes getting heavy. While it was next to impossible to get any sound sleep, they might take what Bluff called “cat-naps,” rousing themselves every little while so as to change their cramped position and perhaps cast more wood on the fire.
Jerry remembered that it was immediately after he had taken the longest doze of any that he heard something that thrilled him.
He raised his head to listen, and then kicked his companion in the calf of the leg. Bluff only grunted, possibly believing, if he thought anything at all, it might be only an accident.
“Bluff—oh, Bluff!”
Now he caught the sound of Jerry’s voice close to his ear, and it was accompanied by yet another prod with his toe, this time of a more vigorous nature than before.
“Hey! What ails you, Jerry? If you can’t sleep, what’s the need of punching me that way?” grumbled Bluff.
“But I tell you there is something trying to get in here!!” argued the other.
At that, Bluff condescended to slightly raise his head. He was more awake by now, for he realized that Jerry was in earnest.
“I don’t see anything but that our fire is going down some. Now I’m roused up, I guess I’d better put on more stuff,” he remarked sleepily, as he started to sit up.
“Watch back there and you’ll see, I tell you!” And Jerry pointed toward the side of their weak barricade, where it joined the upturned roots and frozen soil.
Having his attention pivoted upon the one particular spot, Bluff was not long in making a surprising discovery.
“By Jinks, it does seem to be moving!” he admitted. “Wonder now if that could be only the wind?”
“But, don’t you see, the wind has died out. And, say, that noise sounds for all the world like a dog trying to dig his way through. I tell you, Bluff, they’re coming in after us—the wolves, I mean!”
This time Bluff did not laugh. Instead, he put out a hand and commenced to fumble around him. Jerry knew he was searching for his rifle, and he hastened to take a firmer grip on his own weapon, which he was holding at the time.
The scratching noise continued, with but slight intermissions. They could also see even in that uncertain light that the animal was by degrees demolishing the flimsy shelter at the place where he had attacked it.
Then something that glowed like two coals of yellow fire appeared. Jerry caught his breath, and stared as though fascinated. He knew that those strange objects were the flaming eyes of the bold wolf that thought to steal this march upon them.
The animal had been afraid to enter the shelter on the side where the fire smoldered. Urged on by hunger, he had thought to tear a hole in the wall and attack those within.
Had either of the boys been better versed in the nature and habits of wolves, they must have known that only when half famished would these skulkers of the Canadian forests make bold enough to attack human beings.
Neither of the boys bothered about anything just then save the fact that they were threatened by a savage enemy and had better take immediate measures looking to self-protection.
Jerry felt rather than saw his companion start to raise his gun.
“Oh, Bluff, please don’t!” he cried hurriedly.
“Why, what’s the matter?” replied the other. “The sooner we let Mr. Wolf know we’re at home and ready to give him and his kind a warm reception, the better for us. Let go my arm, can’t you? I want to send a bullet between those two eyes.”
“But, Bluff, it isn’t fair!” protested the other boy, while the wolf, if it was one, had fallen to scratching again, apparently not intimidated by the muttering of voices within.
“Hey, tell me what you mean, can’t you?” Bluff demanded indignantly, wondering at the same time whether his chum could have gone out of his mind because of the sudden awakening and the threatening peril.
“It’s my wolf, Bluff; didn’t I discover him first?” Jerry continued, still holding tenaciously on to the arm of the other, as though to add force to his argument.
At that Bluff laughed softly.
“Oh, that’s what’s ailing you, is it?” he ventured to say. “Like as not you feel as if you ought to be the one to knock him over, eh? Well, get your gun!”
“I have, already. Tell me when it’s time for me to let go!” And, having received the commission to act, Jerry no longer kept an eager grip on the sleeve of his comrade’s coat.
“I might give a whoop, which is apt to make the beast look in on us again,” was Bluff’s reply. “Keep your gun leveled, so as to let drive as soon as you glimpse his eyes. Right between them, remember.”
“I will, and thank you for giving me first chance. But hark to what’s going on out there now. Whew! Sounds as if there might be more’n one wolf waiting to jump in here on us.”
“It’s snarling and scrapping, as sure as you’re born,” admitted the second boy, as he managed to hold his gun in readiness. “Tell you what I’ll do, Jerry.”
“Yes, go on then,” said the other eagerly.
“Just as soon as you blaze away, I’ll be ready to jump outside, gun in hand.”
“What for?”
“So as to try to get another crack at some of the other critters. They’ll turn tail, and run a little way off after the crash of the gun inside here and seeing their mate keel over. But it may be light enough for me to see to bowl over one on my own account.”
“I understand now. Do whatever you think best. And just as soon as I’ve pulled the trigger I think I’ll climb out after you.”
“Not a bad idea,” admitted the other; “but now get ready, for I’m going to let out a yell to see what happens.”
Bluff had managed to scramble into a position that gave him a better opportunity to gain his feet in a hurry. He knew there would be considerable need of haste in making his exit, if he hoped to glimpse any of the vanishing wolves after they had been alarmed by the gunshot within the pit.
“Go on!” urged the nervous Jerry, with raised gun, and his eyes fixed on the particular spot where the intruder was again busily at work.
The shout Bluff gave was indeed enough to attract attention. They could hear a movement outside the shelter, as though the invaders had started to retreat, only to come back again, as determined as ever.
Jerry was waiting. All he wanted was just a glimpse of the twin balls of fire not six feet away, when he stood ready to do the duty he had begged Bluff to give into his hands.
It speedily came to him. First he saw a movement about the small gap that had already been made in the wall of branches. Then a nose was rudely thrust into the aperture, as the daring wolf feasted his eyes on the figures of the two lads.
Bang! went Jerry’s rifle, fired point-blank. Instantly the other boy was in motion, and scrambling to get up out of the hole on the side of the opening and the dwindling fire.
As he passed this bed of red embers, he gave a kick that sent some small bits of fuel into the mass. The object of this, of course, was to try and coax a slight uplift in the way of a blaze that might be of assistance to him in sighting the fleeing wolves.
Jerry, almost stunned by the violence of the report in such confined quarters, did his best to follow at the heels of his chum. His heart was beating three times as fast as ordinary. Perhaps he anticipated finding his bold comrade battling for his life with a horde of hungry gray-coated animals and in need of such help as he might render.
Jerry heard a gun sound even as he was climbing up the little incline that marked the border of their depressed camp. Bluff gave a series of shouts at the same time; somehow these did not impress Jerry as cries for aid, but rather given in derision, and to add to the speed of the wolves’ retreat.
Yes, there was Bluff standing staring into the white bank of falling snow, while holding his gun in readiness to repeat his shot, if necessary.
“Did you get one?” cried Jerry eagerly.
“I hardly think so,” the other replied dejectedly. “You see, they were a little too fast for me. When I got on my feet out here I could just see something darker than the snow on the point of disappearing. I pulled on it as quick as I could; but the chances are I didn’t more than wound him, even if I managed that.”
“But they’re gone away, Bluff!”
“Seems like it,” returned Bluff.
“I only hope they’ve had enough of it, and will fight shy of our camp the rest of the night,” ventured Jerry.
“Guess you got your fellow, all right,” observed the other boy.
That caused Jerry to turn toward the snow-covered shelter. The fire was now burning briskly for the time being, and it was possible to see without much difficulty.
“Oh, do you think I did?” exclaimed the marksman. “Let’s find out. And, say, if I turned him over, I’d like first rate to save his hide for a mat. A wolfskin makes the finest kind of a footmat, you know; and it’d be great to know every time you stood on it that you had won it fair and square.”
They were by this time standing over the fallen animal. It lay stretched out on the snow, and was apparently dead.
“Looks like a pretty big wolf to me,” ventured Jerry, feeling the thrill of satisfaction that comes to every hunter when he has by good luck or superior marksmanship managed to bring down his quarry.
“He is a buster, sure enough,” said Bluff; “in fact, I never saw a bigger one, either in captivity or running wild. I’d hate to tackle such a beast hand to hand. See his white teeth, will you! Don’t they look ferocious, though? Here, give me your gun, if so be you mean to lug him into the shelter with us.”
“I only want to do that to save the skin, you see,” explained Jerry, as he started to comply.
“Well, I reckon you’re wise,” Bluff remarked, “because if his mates are as hungry as he seemed to be, chances are they’ll sneak back and carry the body away, so’s to make a meal off it.”
While it was not as pleasant as it might be, having that four-footed wood pirate inside with them, Bluff made no remonstrance. He saw that it pleased Jerry to anticipate getting the skin of the wolf to keep as a memento of the strange adventure; and Bluff could be one of the most accommodating fellows ever known when he felt so disposed.
So once more the boys made themselves fairly comfortable, after the fire had been renewed, and between listening and dozing the long hours passed away.