Then they heard Moze whining at the door, and a moment later Bill opened it and came in.
“Kind of dusty out,” he laughed, brushing the flakes from his broad shoulders.
“What did you see?” asked Ed, eagerly.
“The pack of wild dogs!” replied Bill, looking at Ben.
“Get a shot at them?” inquired the guide.
“No, they were too far away. I tell you, there’s a bunch of them. Must be twenty-five or thirty.”
“Tell us about them,” urged the boys.
“Wait till after supper; I’m hungry as a bear.”
“Well, sit down, then; it’s ready,” announced Ben.
Afterward Bill told how he had seen the wild pack racing along a valley, on the hot scent of some animal. He had worked his way down the mountain on which he had been hunting, and had followed the dog tracks for quite a distance. The trapper had learned that the wolf-like hunters were chasing a deer—a doe. As the trail gave every indication of a long chase, he left it and came back to the cabin.