“What’s the use? He is no good for meat.”
“The beast is not going to get the better of me.”
Henry walked around the tree with care. He got a slight glimpse of the wolverine’s bushy tail, but that was all.
“Can you see him, Henry?”
“I know where he is. I think I can make him move.”
Henry picked up some snow, made a snowball, and threw it at the bushy tail. There was a snarl and a snap, and down into the snow leaped the wolverine, all ready for a fight.
As soon as the beast landed Dave fired. As luck would have it, the wolverine was hit in the side and turned over and over, sending the snow in all directions.
“I’ve got him! I’ve got him!” called out the young hunter, excitedly.
“I reckon I’d better finish him,” answered Henry, and once again his rifle spoke up. At once the whirling of the wolverine ceased, and he stretched himself out on the snow.
“My gracious! that was a fight,” observed Dave, wiping the cold perspiration from his forehead. “I don’t wonder some folks think there is nothing so savage as a wolverine.”