He started, and as he did so he was conscious of the sound of many pattering feet—soft, muffled sounds, yet loud enough for him to hear. He even thought, as he turned over and flung out his arm, that his hand had touched something that was warm and furry.
He sat up and gripped his rifle as he stared around him.
In the semi-darkness of the rising moon he could see dark figures moving restlessly all around him, while a score or more of eyes kept twinkling like stars to indicate how he was being watched.
Just then a wild, long-drawn wail rent the night air beside him. The boy's blood seemed to run cold at the sound, for he knew that he was surrounded by a horde of timber wolves who had thought him dead, and come too soon.
Too soon? Yes. But how long would their moment be delayed?
Bob staggered to his feet and held his rifle in readiness. But the ghouls of the night kept at some distance, though he could still see them stirring here and there, as if they were discussing plans among themselves.
The boy waited—it seemed hours—each moment expecting a dash from the black spectres. Still they hung back, until Bob actually began to long for the attack to begin, that the strain of waiting might be broken.
Then something moved behind him. He wheeled about and swung his rifle like a club, at random. The butt met a soft substance, and a wild howl followed, as a wolf that had been creeping upon him from the rear now sprang back among his lurking comrades. Instantly the forest rang with wails and howls and snarling, as the wolves sprang upon their wounded comrade (as is the way of many wild animals) and tore him to pieces.
Yet Arnold dared not leave the spot. If he ran, the wolves would soon be upon him, for a fleeing prey is more closely pressed than one that stands at bay. Moreover, he was in the centre of a clearing. If he were to enter the woods, there would be many quarters from which he would be open to attack and unable to defend himself freely.
The night wore on, and the moon crept up into the arc of the sky. His enemies could be plainly seen now, though the shadows prevented him from determining how great was their number. Probably the uncertain light deceived him and multiplied the actual score. One thing—they were in sufficient numbers to be a formidable danger, and it would need sharp watching to ward off the attack effectively.