"Be jabers! They're on a bee line down the Truro-road," added Pat. "In foive minutes the howlin' pack 'll be on us as sure as shootin'. Pile on the dry pine, boys," he called out in a higher key. "Whin ther's a big pack and a cowld night, it'll take a tremendous fire to keep the spalpeens from sessling right into us."
"We'd better call out the men," suggested a private.
"Holy Peter! we must call the drivers too, or the horses 'll be afther a stampede," was the answer.
But both drivers and soldiers had heard the wolves and were up. Captains Cummings and Payne and Sir George, too, were already out, and the men, many of them only half dressed, with guns in their hands came tumbling after them.
"We may as well see the end of this," cried the Colonel.
"Heavens! Yonder they come," shouted Cummings; and at the top of the long incline, leading out of the valley, a dark, surging mass could be seen clearly in the moonlight.
On they came straight down the road, filling the air with unearthly yells. Some in the centre were on a steady run; others at the side scampered irregularly to the right or left; while a few young and lanky fellows leapt madly over the backs of others in order to get to the front.
"Quick, men! Rifles ready," called out Cummings, as the men got into position before the unusual foe. The wild rush of the wolves was checked as they neared the blazing fires. Still, as Pat said, "Numbers made them bould." There were more than a score of the hungry brutes; and the sight of fire was not enough to divert their attention from horses and men that they saw within their reach.
As they struck the camp they set up a more terrific howl than ever, and made a sort of momentary halt. The leaders, a couple of huge fellows, turning grey with age, seemed in a quandary whether to turn to the right or to the left. Then they made a rush toward the riflemen who stood nearest, and the whole pack came on.
"Fire!" cried the Colonel.