"I don't believe it was quite as bad as that," objected Serge. "I expect only the dogs piled on top of us when they were driven in. By-the-way, did you know that four of them were killed and several others badly hurt?"
"No, I didn't," cried Phil, in dismay. "What ones are killed?"
"Two from my team, one from yours, and one from Chitsah's."
"Oh, the villains!" exclaimed the young leader. "Another victory like that would cripple us. Do you think there is any danger of them coming back?"
"Not just now; but I shouldn't be surprised to hear from them again to-morrow night."
"All right. I'm glad you mentioned it. Now we'll see if we can't have an interesting reception prepared for them."
"Pizen?" queried Jalap Coombs, who had lighted his pipe, and was now complacently watching the skinning of the dead wolves, which had been undertaken by the three Indians.
"Worse than that," answered Phil, significantly.
By the time the Indians had finished their task and breakfast had been eaten the usual starting-hour had arrived. Two of the wolf-skins were allotted to the guide, who was to leave them at this point, and he set forth on his return journey with them on his back. Rolled in them were the single dried salmon, which would form his sole sustenance on the journey, and the cherished pound of tobacco, for which he had been willing to work so hard. In his hand he bore an old flintlock musket, that was the pride of his heart, not so much on account of its shooting qualities, which were very uncertain, as by reason of its great length. It was the longest gun known to the dwellers of the Tananah Valley, and consequently the most valuable, for the Hudson Bay Company's method of selling such guns was to exchange one for as many marten, fox, or beaver skins as could be piled from stock to muzzle when it stood upright.
"I hope the wolves won't attack his camps," remarked Phil, as they watched the lonely figure pass out of sight on the back trail.