He jumped upon a fallen log and gazed around. Nothing stirred, but he was sure that he had not been mistaken. There was a strip of open ground, ahead where the unknown animal must show itself if it was coming toward him, and in a few seconds indeed the creature came out from the raspberries into plain sight. It came at a fast, slinking trot, a gray-brown animal about the size of a collie dog, bushy-tailed, carrying its head low.
Carl had never seen a timber-wolf at large, though he had watched them behind iron bars, and he recognized the animal in a moment. He was not particularly frightened, but was very much surprised, for he had not supposed that there were any wolves in that district. Still, he recollected, where deer are plentiful there are almost sure to be wolves, and deer have been increasing very fast in the North of late years. The great Algonquin Park game-preserve affords them a safe breeding-place, and they have spread into all the territory for miles around. Wolves are extremely shy and timid when alone, and Carl stood still and watched it come, in amused expectation of the frantic bolt it would make when it caught sight of him.
But it came on with disconcerting steadiness, though it glanced up, sniffed, and must have seen him. Carl began to feel a slight uneasiness. The beast’s coat looked dull and mangy. There was a curious, jerky motion in its gait, and large flecks of froth on its half-open jaws. As it came nearer, Carl heard a continuous low sound, half snarl and half moan, from its low-hung muzzle.
As if by intuition, Carl realized what was the matter. The animal was mad!
Dimly he remembered now having heard that rabies is terribly prevalent every summer among the timber-wolves, serving, in fact, a useful purpose in keeping down their numbers. The afflicted wolf always leaves the pack and wanders forth alone, spreading its malady, of course, at every chance meeting, till it dies a merciful and solitary death.
Carl had no weapon, not even a knife. It was too late to run, and this would only draw the animal’s pursuit. But a dead cedar stood at his elbow, and with a bound he clutched the trunk, and pulled himself up among the dry, spiky branches.
The movement caught the sick wolf’s attention, and it sprang forward while Carl was still dangling. He kicked out desperately. His boot caught the wolf on the jaw as it leaped after him, and it fell back with a yelp, while Carl tremulously established himself out of reach.
The unfortunate animal made three or four bounds into the air in an aimless fashion, and stared up blinking. Carl expected to be held captive in the tree for a long time, but in a few minutes the wolf seemed to forget him. It raised its muzzle and howled dismally, then loped off into the thickets, heading down the river.
Carl kept his perch in the tree for some minutes after the animal was out of sight. The peculiar horror of this peril, worse than any ordinary form of death, had completely unnerved him. Then, like a flash, it came upon him that the wolf was heading directly for their cabin.
Alice was there alone, perhaps working in her garden or in the bee-yard or at the barn—certainly somewhere out-of-doors. The wolf would come blindly out into the clearing; and in its madness, as he had seen, it had no fear of man.