"The wolves still hung over the remains of their dead comrade at some little distance," continued the squire, "and I thought I might venture down to secure one of the buffalo robes and Carry's cloak, which lay on the ground. Without telling Carry what I was about to do, I bade her sit still and make no noise, while I carefully descended from branch to branch and dropped softly upon the ground. I threw the skin and the cloak up on the branch."
"But the snow was cold and creaked under my feet. One of the wolves looked round, and in a moment the whole pack were upon me. I was too quick for them, however. As I swung myself upon the branch, I had the satisfaction of dealing the nearest wolf a kick with my heavy cowhide boot which would not have disgraced a mule. In another moment I was safe at Carry's side with my prize, which was worth more than its weight in gold to us at that moment, for the weather was growing very cold. I wrapped Carry in her cloak, and would have given her the whole of the skin; but she insisted upon my sharing it, and finding, upon examination, that the bough was strong enough to bear a dozen men safely, I drew close to her side and put my arm round her waist."
"More than a dozen wolves were now assembled round the foot of the tree, howling and yelling as they looked up at us. Every now and then one of them would give a leap upward, as if to secure his supper at any rate. How thankful I felt when I remembered that wolves cannot climb!"
"Cannot they climb?" asked Ned.
"No, no more than a dog. If they could climb as well as run, few creatures could escape from them. The wind had now risen a little, and it was very cold, so that in spite of the buffalo skin, we shivered from head to foot. I looked at Carry, and I perceived that her eyes closed every now and then."
"'Carry,' said I; 'you are growing sleepy!"
"'I know it,' she replied, rousing herself. 'It seems very strange, but I believe, if I were sure of not falling, I should go to sleep in a moment.'"
"'And never wake again in this world!' said I. 'Don't you know that the sleep which comes from cold ends only in death? You must keep awake, whatever happens!'"
"'I will,' said she. And in a moment she began to sing the 'Gloria in Excelsis.' I had often admired her singing before, and since then I have heard that magnificent old chant in grand churches and cathedrals at home and abroad, but I never heard it sound so wonderfully and gloriously pathetic as it did that night, ringing among the trees of the swamp as she sang: 'Thou who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us!'"
The squire paused for a moment and wiped his spectacles.