“Well, I’m a whole lot thinner than I was. Toma would make better eating.”
At this juncture, Toma, who had been cutting what little wood remained, strode forward with an almost excited look on his face. “I know what do now,” he announced. “We no got firewood; plenty over by trees.”
“We know that,” Sandy responded impatiently, “but we’re a long ways from being over there.”
“Me ketch um good idea. No can go to wood with wolves there. We move fire to wood; move um little at time, one feet, two feet—bye and bye we get there—mebbe by night we travel fast.”
Toma was right. At nightfall they had accomplished the unusual feat of moving the fire to another patch of wood. And with the first snarling approach of the ravenous wolves a replenished fire sprang up to beat them back. The boys, in exuberance, piled more and more wood on the fire until it leaped five feet into the still, frosty air, and grew so hot it melted a circle of snow about it.
Dick breathed a sigh of satisfaction as he crawled into his blankets hours later. It had been decided that Sandy was to stand first watch with Toma. Tonight, Dick decided grimly, he would make the most of the hours allotted him for sleep. He intended to follow Toma’s example and forget everything in the complete relaxation of weary mind and muscles.
“Got to fight this thing through,” he reminded himself, stretching his long legs out before the campfire and composing himself for sleep. A few minutes later, while watching Sandy nervously pacing to and fro, he forgot all his troubles in a happy loss of consciousness that carried him away to a land where wolves, blizzards and scar faced Indians did not once trouble him.
He was awakened by Toma shaking him by the shoulder. “Big wolf eat you up if sleep like that,” declared the young guide goodnaturedly.
Dick jumped up, once more mentally alert, and shortly piled more wood on the fire, commencing his lonely vigil. He scanned the fringe of the firelight for the skulking shapes, which had become so dreadfully familiar, but he could see none—not a single prowling form anywhere. He decided that the wolves had moved further back from the fire. Several times he believed he heard a deep-throated snarl, but he was not sure.
“I hope they’re gone,” he breathed fervently, “so that we can continue on our way to Fort Dunwoody. We’ve lost too much time already.”