It happened that one evening the hunters were very late; it was a clear moonlight night, but at eight o’clock they had not made their appearance; Percival had opened the door to go out for some firewood which had been piled within the palisades, and as it was later than the usual hour for locking the palisade gates, Mr Campbell had directed him so to do. Emma, attracted by the beauty of the night, was at the door of the house, when the howl of a wolf was heard close to them; the dogs, accustomed to it, merely sprang on their feet, but did not leave the kitchen fire; Emma went out, and looked through the palisades to see if she could perceive the animal, and little Trim, the terrier, followed her. Now Trim was so small, that he could creep between the palisades, and as soon as he was close to them, perceiving the wolf, the courageous little animal squeezed through them and flew towards it, barking as loud as he could. Emma immediately ran in, took down her rifle and went out again, as she knew that poor Trim would soon be devoured. The supposition was correct, the wolf instead of retreating closed with the little dog and seized it. Emma, who could now plainly perceive the animal, which was about forty yards from her, took aim and fired, just as poor Trim gave a loud yelp. Her aim was good, and the wolf and dog lay side by side. Mr and Mrs Campbell, and Mary, hearing the report of the rifle, ran out, and found Percival and Emma at the palisades behind the house.
“I have killed him, aunt,” said Emma, “but I fear he has killed poor little Trim; do let us go out and see.”
“No, no, my dear Emma, that must not be; your cousins will be home soon, and then we shall know how the case stands; but the risk is too great.”
“Here they come,” said Percival, “as fast as they can run.”
The hunters were soon at the palisade door and admitted; they had no game with them. Emma jeered them for coming back empty-handed.
“No, no, my little cousin,” replied Alfred, “we heard the report of a rifle, and we threw down our game, that we might sooner come to your assistance if you required it. What was the matter?”
“Only that I have killed a wolf, and am not allowed to bring in my trophy,” replied Emma. “Come, Alfred, I may go with you and Martin.”
They went to the spot, and found the wolf was dead, and poor Trim dead also by his side. They took in the body of the little dog, and left the wolf till the morning, when Martin said he would skin it for Miss Emma.
“And I’ll make a footstool of it,” said Emma; “that shall be my revenge for the fright I had from the other wolf. Come, Oscar, good dog; you and I will go wolf-hunting. Dear me, who would have thought that I should have ever killed a wolf—poor little Trim!”
Martin said it would be useless to return for the venison, as the wolves had no doubt eaten it already; so they locked the palisade gate, and went into the house.