Jack jumped to his feet.
“Please don’t talk about it any more,” he said with a sickly smile. “If I have eaten a piece of horse, all right. But I don’t want to be told about it.”
“Ho! ho!” laughed Boris. “Now what do you think of that! Here is a brave young man turning sick just because he has swallowed a piece of horse. Ho! ho!”
He laughed long and loudly.
“Won’t you please keep quiet?” asked Jack, getting sicker every minute. “Horse! Ugh!”
Realizing that the lad really and truly didn’t like such talk, the Russian desisted. He arose and walked to the window. Without, but some distance from the hut now that the fire was blazing freely in the open place, stood the gaunt, gray wolves. Boris called Jack to him.
“They’ll stay there as long as this fire is kept burning,” he explained. “But there is no need for both of us to stand guard. One can watch and keep the fire going and the other can sleep. We’ll divide the night into four-hour watches. You lie down on the pallet there in the corner. I’ll stand the first watch.”
Jack did as Boris suggested and was soon asleep; and all through the long night, inside the hut one stood guard as the other slept—and the break of day did not come any too suddenly.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CAPTURED BY NEW ENEMIES.
Dawn came early in Boris’ second watch. The wolves still maintained their vigil without. The Russian kept the fire blazing brightly. He determined to let Jack sleep an hour longer.