It flashed upon him that save for his hunting knife he was wholly unarmed just then; for his trusty Marlin had of course been left in the cabin; and what use would a five inch blade be against a trio of active, vigorous and reckless wolves, bent upon securing a dinner?
He stood up, and took a step toward the cabin. Ominous growls greeted the act, as though they would warn Felix that they did not mean to allow him to gain the shelter of his fort.
Felix had another thrill about that time. The first had meant only excitement; but this went further, and whispered of alarm as well.
How they bared their white fangs, and raised the long hair on their bony shoulders, to show that they were primed for fight.
The boy realized that unless he proved himself quick-witted the chances of his ever getting to where he could snatch up his good rifle, and give them what they deserved, would be pretty slim.
At such a time as this the brain works as if on fire. It seemed to Felix as though a score of things flashed through his mind at the same instant. He wondered if he could frighten the animals by dashing at them, waving his arms, and letting out a few wild whoops, for sometimes wolves are sent into a panic by the sound of the human voice.
But if the expedient failed, why, it would bring him all the sooner to grips with the three hairy scamps that seemed to invite a trail of strength, and resourcefulness.
How about the bucket—could he knock upon the bottom with his knuckles at the same time, and add to the din, so as to produce a temporary fear in their hearts?
The cabin was only two hundred feet away, and Felix just knew he could fairly fly over this distance, given half a chance; but if they recovered soon enough to leap after him, was he not likely to have them on his back before he could get inside and slam the door shut?
But something must be done!