Thad, being given a fair amount of imagination, found it easy to shut his eyes, and believe he could see the old trapper who once lived here, as Eli described him. Years upon years he had come and gone, as the winters passed, always taking toll of the woods’ folks; yet never trying to make such a deep inroad on their numbers but that there were plenty left for breeding purposes. The wise old trapper looked forward to another year. Finally he had lost his life among the wild loggers of a Maine river; being unfortunate enough to get caught in a jam that he was trying to break.
When some of the boys, tired from the work of the day, and lack of rest on the preceding night, stretched out their blankets, and disputed about where each should settle down later on. Thad and Eli stepped out to see what the night promised for the coming day. If it looked like snow they would find good tracking weather; though for one Thad hoped this would still keep off some little while, and allow them to do some hunting before winter closed on them.
The stars were shining brightly in the dark heavens. The young moon had sunk to rest; but every night now they might expect it to grow in size, until in a week considerable light would come from this source. And there is nothing more enjoyable when in the depths of the wilderness, than a round, clear moon.
As the two stood there, speaking of these things, there came stealing on the night air a strange sound that, although rising from a considerable distance away from the cabin, still struck Thad as very weird, and also blood-curdling. He had heard watch dogs bay to the moon; but this was something far more thrilling.
“That’s no wildcat; and I don’t think it can be a panther, a bear or any animal I’ve ever struck in the woods. What do you make out of it, Eli?” he asked, turning to the old guide, whom he had heard emit a whistle, as of astonishment, at the time that queer howl was heard.
“It’s be’n many a year now, Thad, since ever I heerd the like o’ thet howl,” the Maine guide observed. “Time was when they uster be here in plenty; but the bounty paid by the state, it just ’bout cleaned the hull lot out; er else they thort as how ’twar safer up yonder, acrost the line in Canada.”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Thad; “do you mean to tell me that was a wolf?”
“A real wolf, an’ nothin’ else,” answered Eli; “an’ let me tell ye, it do bring back the old days, fur me to listen to thet howl. This is like livin’ again.”
CHAPTER XII.
A FACE IN THE WINDOW.
“Ugh! that right, Eli; wolf only cry like that!” said a voice close beside the two who stood there; and turning, they could make out a figure which they knew must be that of Sebattis; but so softly had the Indian slipped out, after hearing that well-known though faint howl, that even Eli, sharp ears though he possessed, had not detected his coming until he spoke.