“Hey, what’s that jumping up and down over yonder? Strikes me they look like a pack of dogs or wolves!”
“Oh, Bluff, they’ve got those men up a tree, don’t you see? Perhaps they’ve been there all night. I pity them, if that’s so.”
“Yes; but first let’s see if we can pepper the wolves some, so’s to make ’em tired of hanging around. Be ready to blaze away.”
The half dozen or more animals had discovered their presence by this time. They immediately began to display signs of meaning to clear out, for several ran short distances, to turn and snarl, as though uncertain whether to show fight or not.
Bluff fired, and one of the gray-coated pirates from the Canadian border went limping away. The rest decided they would be wise to put considerable distance between themselves and the owners of those sticks that coughed and sent forth unseen missiles that stung.
Jerry managed to get in a couple of parting shots, and always declared that he hit one of the running beasts, though if so it could not have been a fatal wound since none dropped.
Hurrying forward, the boys discovered a bulky object in the crotch of a tree.
“Why, it’s Bill Nackerson!” cried Jerry.
“Yes, that’s who it is, sonny, or what’s left of him; because I’m mighty much afraid both my feet are frozen. I’ve been cooped up here for hours, while that hungry gang kept watching and jumping and growling all the while. I’m glad you came up. It’ll cheat ’em out of their breakfast, no matter what happens to me.”
“Can you drop down?” asked Bluff, touched by the evident suffering in the man’s face.