“If we only had something with which to scare them.”
“Perhaps we can fix up something.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was thinking of those deer. What have you got in the way of powder and shot?”
Harry showed his store, and Joe looked over what he possessed.
“We’ll fix ’em,” said Joe, getting out his knife.
With great care he cut a chunk of venison, and wrapped it in a piece of the deer skin. Inside of the skin he placed a quantity of powder and shot, and to this added a fuse, a rude affair, but one that looked as if it might burn. Then he cut several other pieces of venison.
“Now feed these to the wolves, one at a time,” he said to his brother.
Harry understood, and threw one of the bits far out from the tree. A wolf came and sniffed at it, and then began to eat. Another bit brought several other of the beasts up, and then the whole pack crowded up close.
“Now then, take that, and see how you like it!” cried Joe, and, lighting the fuse, he threw the big piece down in the very center of the pack. “Now use your gun, Harry!” he cried, and snatched up his own firearm.