The Indian hesitated a moment. "Wind getting round Nor East, mean snow," he finally declared.
From the sled, which had been left beneath the branches of another spruce near by, he brought three sleeping bags, huge canvas affairs, lined with bear skins and fitted with a flap, which could be drawn completely over the head, but which was equipped with air holes so that the sleeper would be able to breath easily.
"We ought to sleep warm in those things," Jack declared.
"Oui, sleep heap warm," Lucky assured them.
How long he had been asleep Bob did not know but, sometime in the night, he awakened with a sudden start. For an instant he wondered where he was and then, as memory returned, he wondered what had disturbed him for he rarely woke up in the night unless there was a cause. But, after listening intently for a moment and hearing nothing save the sighing of the trees and an occasional low growl from one of the dogs, he decided that he had been mistaken and was about to go to sleep again when, far off in the forest, he heard a low but distinct howl.
"That sounds like a wolf," he thought.
And then, from a direction more to the right, came an answering howl a little louder than the other.
He was lying close to Jack who was between him and the Indian and, as the second howl rang through the forest, he felt his brother stir.
"Did you hear it?" He asked.
"Sure did."