Thad of course had a second barrel to hold in reserve. He had more or less difficulty in seeing through the thin curtain of powder smoke that followed the double discharge; but at least no sprawling figure came flying at them, with snapping jaws that were eager to rend and tear.
"She's done for, Thad!" exclaimed Aleck, joyfully, as they heard a commotion beyond, and could see something moving with short jerks, like an animal kicking its last.
"Wait—hold on till I pick up the lantern; she may only be wounded, and get you, if you don't look out. Besides, those cubs are partly grown, and may be big enough to show fight."
Thad thus held his comrade back for a brief time until he could snatch up the light, and take his place in the van, which was really what he wanted to do.
As they approached the spot where a dark bundle lay, they could still see something of a movement.
"She isn't dead yet, I'm afraid, Thad," cried Aleck, who had a single-shot rifle, and was therefore without further means of defence until he could find time to slip another cartridge into the chamber.
"Oh! I guess so," answered Thad; "what you see moving must be the whelps. Yes, I can see one right now, and he's a savage looking little beast on my word. We'll have to knock him on the head, Aleck. Wolves must be killed wherever they are found. Nobody ever spares them, Toby Smathers says. They're of no use at all, and do a great amount of harm, killing game and sheep, and even weak cattle in the winter season."
Aleck soon dispatched the growling cub with the stock of his gun, and then looked around for more.
"Do you expect that this was the only whelp?" he asked.
"Well, no, but the other must have escaped, somehow," replied Thad. "It doesn't matter to us, though, for the little beast will perish, without a mother to supply it food."