“They will fight,” Running Fox assured him.
The carcass of the deer was between the lads and the wolves, and it appeared that the latter were preparing to fight for possession of it. Still, it was some time before they grew hold enough to expose themselves in the firelight. At last, however, one great wolf more reckless than its companions rushed toward the prize. As it came into the glow Spotted Deer shot his arrow, and the wolf rolled into the hushes, howling dismally. Elated at his success, Spotted Deer raised his voice in the Delaware war-cry.
“That was a bad thing to do,” said Running Fox. “Perhaps that will reach the ears of an enemy.”
“It is true, Running Fox, I was very foolish,” Spotted Deer acknowledged, guiltily.
At that instant the wolves charged in a body, and the lads saw that they would have all the fighting they desired. They killed several of the leaders, and for a moment the others hesitated. Then they divided and formed a circle, and the Delawares realized that they had been surrounded. Once roused to the attack, the wolves showed little fear, and the lads soon found themselves engaged in a desperate encounter. Standing back to back to prevent being attacked from the rear, they fought furiously to keep the ferocious animals from reaching them. More than one wolf was stopped in mid-air as it leaped forward to drag them to the ground. Once Running Fox was compelled to use his war-club to crush the skull of a wolf that had eluded his arrow. A moment later he heard a warning cry from Spotted Deer, and wheeling about he saw the latter borne to earth by a huge wolf that had two arrows sticking in its side. Running Fox drove a third arrow into the fatal spot behind the shoulder, and Spotted Deer leaped to his feet unharmed. Then the wolves suddenly became demoralized, and retreated into the shadows. Spotted Deer was eager to follow them, but Running Fox cautioned against it.
“We have had a hard fight, but we have come out of it,” said Running Fox. “If we follow the wolves into the darkness we may be torn to pieces.”
“Perhaps that is so,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They piled more brush on the fire, and kept a sharp watch for another attack. However, as the time passed and the wolves failed to appear, the lads believed that they had skulked off. Still it was a long time before they dared to leave the fire to recover their arrows from the bodies of the wolves they had killed. While they were engaged in the task they heard savage snarls coming from the darkness, and saw the flash of angry eyes. They realized, therefore, that they were in constant danger of attack by the wounded wolves that had been unable to retreat with the pack.
“This is dangerous work,” said Running Fox. “I believe the best thing to do would be to wait until the light comes.”
He had barely uttered the warning, however, when a great black form rushed from behind a rock and attacked him. It snapped savagely at his legs, but he jumped aside in time to avoid the cruel white fangs. Then he wheeled at bay. He saw the hateful green eyes glaring at him through the night, and he aimed his arrow a short distance below them. As he released the bow-string the wolf attempted to spring at him, but the arrow plunged deep into its chest and ended its life. After that narrow escape the lads decided to withdraw to the fire. They gathered enough wood to last them through the night, and planned to take turns watching until daylight.