“Now I move we go back,” said Jack. “It is getting late. To-morrow we can start out early, for there will be nothing to do around the camp after breakfast, which we ought to have by seven o’clock.”
The others were tired and readily agreed. They had not seen any deer, but had found a run, and they were certain that, sooner or later, they would strike one or more of the much-prized beasts.
About a quarter of the distance to camp was covered, when, without warning, a doleful sound reached their ears, coming from directly in front of them.
“What’s that?” asked Andy, as he came to a halt.
“Wolves!” cried Jack. “I did not think there were any in this section!”
“The heavy snow has driven them out to look for food,” put in Harry. “We may have trouble with them.”
“We can shoot them,” said Boxy. “And they—here they come now!”
Boxy had hardly uttered the words when from a thicket rushed five lean and savage-looking wolves, snapping and snarling as they came toward the boys.
All fired their guns, and two of the wolves went down, mortally wounded. The others kept on, yelping and barking with increased savageness.
“Run for it!” yelled Jack. “They will tear us to pieces if they once get at us!”