Tubby wanted to drop his water pail and run like mad. He also would have liked to give a series of shouts, not that he was frightened, of course, but to sort of alarm the animal and cause him to turn tail; but his tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of his mouth in the queerest way ever, and which for the life of him he could not understand.
But while he still held on to the bucket Tubby did manage to get his legs in motion once more; he was far from being paralyzed. The animal kept advancing and stopping by turns. Tubby thought the wolf was laying a plan to surround him, when the beast trotted to one side or the other. Yes, and the cunning of the animal to wag his tail that way, and act as though pleased to see him! Tubby thought of that ancient fairy story about Little Red Riding Hood, and how she met a wolf on the way to her grandmother’s home. They always were tricky creatures, no matter in what country found; but Tubby was on his guard.
By now at least he had managed to regain his voice, and when the wolf trotted closer than he thought was safe he would make violent gestures with his arms, and try to shoo him away. Apparently the beast did not know just how to catch Tubby napping, for he continued to trot along, forcing himself to look as amiable, Tubby saw, as he possibly could, although not deceiving the boy in the least.
“You can’t fool me with your making out to want to be friendly, you miserable old scamp!” he chattered, after he had actually put down the now only half filled bucket, the better to throw up both arms, and pretend to be picking up stones, all of which hostile actions caused the obstinate creature to dart away a short distance although quickly coming on again. “Get out, I tell you! Oh, why didn’t I think to get the loan of Rob’s gun! What if he tumbles me down in spite of all my fighting like mad! But, thank goodness, there’s the cabin, and maybe I can make it yet!”
He did in the end, and burst upon the other pair like a thunderbolt, so that both boys scrambled to their feet, and Rob exclaimed:
“What ails you, Tubby? Have you seen that big bull moose again—and did he attack you?”
“Oh, Rob! Andy! The wolf! The wolf!” stammered Tubby, now completely out of breath; but he had said quite enough, for the two boys snatched up their firearms and darted out of the cabin.
Tubby waited, fully expecting to hear shots, and perhaps wild yelping. Instead he soon caught the sound of whistling, and then he heard the boys laughing heartily. While Tubby stared and waited they came back into the bunk-house. The panting fat boy was startled to see trotting alongside, leaping up again and again, his terrible “wolf”!
“W-w-what’s all this mean, fellows?” he stammered in bewilderment, at the same time dimly comprehending how his fears had magnified the evil.
“Only that your wolf turns out to be a poor dog that’s probably got lost in the woods and was trying to make friends with you,” laughed Rob.