No doubt Sol Ten Eyck was fully aware of the existence of that same fine spring when he started to locate his trapping cabin here in the wilderness; in fact it had everything to do with his selecting that particular locality for putting up his dugout-shack.
He had told Tom that that spring must be connected with some of those in the National Park; because, no matter how cold the winter was, it never froze up. What water came from it might get as hard as anything in the zero temperature; but as for the spring itself, it continued to cheerily bubble forth all through the wintry weather, defying Jack Frost to seal its mouth.
Felix was thinking of his chum as he made his way toward the spring. Doubtless he pictured Tom as busily engaged preparing the carcass of the deer for transportation to the camp; and he could in imagination almost see the pleasure his cousin was taking in his work.
"There never was a better chum than Tom," Felix was saying to himself, as he dipped his bucket carefully into the water; and then, noticing that in approaching too closely he had caused the water to become slightly "roiled," he poured this away, and stooping there, waited a few minutes until it should settle again.
A sound caught his hearing that caused him to quickly look up, and then turn his head. What he saw gave the boy a thrill such as he had seldom experienced before.
One, two, three savage looking animals were standing there, staring at him in a hungry way, just as though they considered themselves in good luck to come upon a dinner so easily.
They had all the appearance of dogs, but although Felix could not own up to any considerable experience with wolves, he knew in a flash that that was what these visitors must be.
And they looked dangerous, too. A single wolf is a cowardly beast, and will almost always slink away from a human being; but when in company, or running with a pack, he becomes an entirely different sort of animal. At such times, especially when sharp pressed by hunger, in the middle of the winter, he will break into the sheep-fold of a farmer, and even pull down a running horse that has been exhausted by a long flight.
Felix had read many a wild story of wolf hunts in Russia; and knew with what fierceness the animals on the Siberian steppes often chase travelers in native vehicles, frequently devouring men and horses.
So he did not underestimate the wolves that so suddenly appeared before him as he stooped over the spring, bucket in hand.