He involuntarily opened his mouth to call out for Mr. Highton, but the thought came quickly into his mind that a sound from him might draw the attention of the pack to himself, and this restrained him.

He wondered where Mr. Highton could be, and what it was that the wolves were fighting over and feasting upon. A terrible fear took possession of him. Had the creatures killed Mr. Highton while he lay sleeping, and were they now devouring him?

He dared not venture nearer to investigate.

He was afraid to move at all lest the beasts should hear him. But, after a little hesitation, he resolved to try to get away to the opposite side of the ravine and there conceal himself until the pack dispersed.

Jimmy moved cautiously away, but had not gone far when, turning to look back, he saw half a dozen of the wolves coming toward him at a gallop.

He knew that he could not outrun them, and, looking about for any possible refuge, he saw, not far away, projecting ten or fifteen feet above the surface of the ravine, the scraggy branches of a tree, which overhung the depths beneath it.

With his best speed the boy dashed forward, and, scrambling down the sides of the gorge until he reached the spot in which the tree was rooted, he began to climb up its bent and twisted trunk.

The tree was but a small one, and its upper branches were hardly strong enough to bear his weight, but he climbed upward until they swayed and bent, and threatened to snap beneath him; then, grasping the largest of them, one in each hand, and resting his feet on the best support he could find for them, Jimmy braced himself and awaited his pursuers.

They soon came up, and leaped and howled and snarled about the tree, but they could not reach their wished-for prey; and, after awhile, they seemed to realize that they were losing their share—and a slender one it must have been, or they would never have deserted it—of the feast being enjoyed by their fellows, and trotted back, to renew their fight over poor Cottontail’s bones.

Jimmy breathed freer for a few minutes after their departure, but his situation was anything but comfortable or agreeable. It was a strain upon his muscles to maintain his position, and there was constant danger that the limbs he was supporting himself by would break and tumble him to the bottom of the ravine. And yet he dared not descend to the ground, because, the wolves might attack or pursue him at any moment. The day grew brighter and the sun appeared, and still Jimmy clung to his swaying, uncertain support, until it seemed to him that he must descend and give relief to his aching arms and feet.