"Oh, do tell us about it!" said Kate; "I just love hunting adventures."
"All right, Kate; you have grown into a kind of savage since your life with the Indians, eh?"
"I heard lots of wonderful stories from the warriors when they sat around the fire at night, but they told such abominable yarns that I didn't believe them. They can stretch a thing pretty well, I tell you," answered Kate.
"Begin, please, Mr. Tucker," said Rob, who was as interested as any of the family.
"Well, then," said he, "I will tell you of the brave deed of a Mexican, which occurred a good many years ago, when I was down in Southern California.
"He was a native, and named Amador Sanchez, well known in the Sierra Nevadas as a brave and successful hunter. He had a terrible fight with one of those great shaggy, gray mountain wolves. The struggle lasted for several hours, and ended by both combatants being laid prostrate on the ground. They were so completely exhausted as to be unable to reach each other from want of sheer physical strength. In that condition they passed one whole night. On the following morning, when the Mexican had recovered sufficiently to be able to creep to his shaggy antagonist, he found him dead.
"The terrible conflict grew out of the Mexican's daring attempt to save the life of a boy who was about to be torn to pieces when the Mexican attacked the wolf.
"At one time the wolf had the youth under him in such a way that it was impossible for Sanchez to plant a ball in any vital organ without imperilling the boy's life. Nothing daunted, however, with both revolver and rifle, he succeeded in lodging several bullets in other parts of the savage beast. Still the enraged brute clung to the unfortunate child, using every endeavor to tear him to pieces and horribly mangling every part of his body. At this juncture, the brave Mexican hunter could no longer refrain from active effort. He dropped his pistols and rifle, drew his sheath-knife and slung-shot; then winding his blanket around his left arm to protect it, he rushed in and compelled the animal to turn upon him, and so gave the boy a chance to escape.
"Wounds were freely given and returned, but the wary Sanchez fought with much dexterity and determination. The wolf finally became so mad with rage and pain, that he closed in upon the Mexican and threw him headlong upon the ground, where he remained almost senseless for a few moments before recovering his breath.
"Instead of following up his advantage, the beast, doubtless believing his enemy dead, because he did not move, commenced to examine and lick his own bleeding wounds. The spirit of the intrepid Mexican, however, was up, and he determined to conquer the wolf or die.