The boys listened, and a faint cry, like the yelping of a pack of hounds, was borne to their ears.
“It can’t be dogs,” said Frank, “for if it was, Brave would not have been so frightened; besides, it does not sound exactly like them, and I know of no hunter in this part of the country that keeps hounds.”
“I wonder if that is what Brave heard?” said Harry.
“It must be,” replied Frank, watching the motions of his dog, which appeared to grow more excited as the sound came nearer. “I would like to know what it is.”
“We shall soon find out, for it seems to be coming this way. Let’s hide behind some of these trees.”
The boys, accordingly, concealed themselves, and waited impatiently, with a great deal of anxiety, for the animals to come in sight. Louder and louder grew the noise, and Harry, turning to his companion, with blanched cheeks, exclaimed:
“It’s the cry of a pack of wolves. Let’s get away from here.”
“O, no,” said Frank. “They must be in pursuit of something. Let us wait and see what it is.”
There was something appalling in the sound, which now began to echo loudly through the woods, and it was no wonder that Harry wished to retreat. Even Brave, although he was a very courageous dog, seemed struck with terror, and crept up behind his master, as if endeavoring to get out of sight. But Frank, with his usual recklessness, determined to stand his ground as long as possible.