And, as some grinding sound caught his ear, he glanced up and discovered a half circle of gleaming yellow eyes watching him from over the top of the barricade!
CHAPTER IV
THE WOLF PACK
"Bob! Wake up! The wolves!"
The shout rang out above the noise of the still whining wind. Aroused from a sound sleep by the startling cry, Bob struggled to a sitting position. Fortunately, he was a boy not easily rattled. The sight of those gleaming eyes told him what had happened, and it was perhaps more through instinct than anything else that he immediately pushed his musket forward and let fly at the nearest pair.
Sandy was not far behind, and the double report made a crash that seemed to produce a temporary panic among the gaunt callers. They hastily withdrew, though with many snarls and long-drawn howls.
Both boys were now on their feet, ready to swing their guns by the barrels if necessary, and use them as a further means of defence. Seeing that their enemies had beaten a temporary retreat, Bob sprang to the fire, and, kicking the partly burned log with his foot, stirred the flame into new life.
"Throw on some small wood, Sandy!" he called, as he bent over the barricade to ascertain whether their lead had been wasted, or found its mark.
"Did we get anything?" demanded the younger boy, understanding the object of Robert's survey, and being possessed of the frontier hunter's instinct, which looked upon the loss of a charge of powder and shot as next door to a sin.