He let fly, and so did the others, and all the wolves were hit in the head or in the side. They set up a fearful howl of commingled pain and rage and then made a move as if to leap into the lake after the lads.
While this was going on the other wolves had approached the duffel bags of the boys and were tearing the outfit apart in an endeavor to get at the bacon and dried beef the lads carried.
Crack!
It was the report of a rifle and the shot startled the boys quite as much as it did the wolves. Then came a second crack, and, looking across the arm of the lake, the boys saw one of the big gray wolves leap into the air and fall back lifeless. Then came a third shot and a second wolf sprang into the air and then came down and with a wild snarl went limping away into the forest.
“Hurrah, somebody has come to our assistance!” cried Jack. “Give it to ’em! Give it to ’em good and plenty!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Plug every one of ’em!” came from Andy.
“Shoot ’em down!” added his twin.
“Don’t let any of them get away!” was the way Fred expressed himself.
At the first crack of the rifle the three wolves that had come after the boys raised their heads to listen. Then, as they saw one wolf killed and another wounded, they waited no longer, but, turning, leaped swiftly over the rocks and then up the mountainside, their movements being hastened by a bullet that hit the rocks between them as they fled. In the meanwhile the remaining wolves had also taken their departure.