Slowly the boys made their way along the trail, their eyes trained hard on the spot which Snadder had indicated. Blinky was shivering and shaking with fear, while Snadder kept close to the boys, not permitting himself to get too far in front.
A hundred yards away the wolves must have sensed the coming of some one else. There were at least eight in the pack.
Through the faint light, aided by the whiteness of the snow, the boys saw three animals wheel from beneath a tree, sniff the air, snarl several times, and then the three wolves charged straight toward the boys!
“Scatter! Quick!” commanded Frank. “Get behind trees! Shoot to kill!”
Suiting his own action to his words, Frank Allen leaped behind a tree just as Blinky shinned up as far as he could from the ground. Snadder dashed for another tree near-by.
Crack! Frank’s rifle spoke as he hastily drew bead on the leader of the small pack. The shot missed!
Snarling and barking, the three gray wolves came on, all in a bunch, straight toward the spot where Frank stood.
Again he drew bead on the leader, this time trying for its breast instead of the head.
Crack! Crack! Two shots reverberated through the little valley as Frank pulled the trigger of his rifle and Lanky also fired.
In a heap went the leader, and instantly the other two animals stopped, reared high in air, and turned on the body of their mate.