"They looked again and again in every direction, calling, 'Polly! Polly!' all in vain. There were no Indians living near, but wolves and panthers were plenty, and only the winter before the father and son had killed two bears in an attack on the cow-house. So they began to feel seriously alarmed.
"Presently the brother, looking anxiously about, espied an odd-looking heap of leaves on the farther slope of the hill, where no wind could possibly have tossed them. He went to have a closer look at it. Carelessly throwing aside a portion of the heap, he uncovered, to his joyful surprise, a bit of Polly's red frock.
"'Father, come here,' he called, and in a moment more they had the child safe and sound, but fast asleep, in their arms.
"'That's strange,' said her father once more. 'John, take Polly home. I'm going to stay here, and see if I can't find out what this means. She never covered herself up this way, I'm certain. Come back as quick as you can, and bring your rifle with you. Here, hand me mine before you go.'
"So saying, he piled the leaves up neatly once more, putting a small log of wood into the place where the child had lain. He then crouched down behind a fallen tree near by to see what would happen.
"He did not have long to wait. John had scarcely had time to return, almost out of breath with the haste he had made, when the soft patter of paws was heard on the dry leaves, and they saw three gray wolves approaching at full trot, with another slightly in advance leading the way.
"The wolf in front led his comrades straight to the heap of leaves, and scratching eagerly, quickly uncovered the buried log. His dismay was almost comical to behold. He sniffed and smelled and turned his head this way and that in utter bewilderment. How a dainty little girl, plump and soft, and just suited to the taste of a wolf who enjoys a good dinner, could suddenly turn into a great uneatable log of wood was too much for him to understand. He finally gave the problem up in despair, and turned to his companions, cowering like a beaten hound.
"There were some sharp barks of disappointment, followed by snarls, as the three guests, who had evidently been bidden to a feast which was not forth-coming, expressed their indignation at the supposed hoax.
"The other wolf only whined dolefully, but in vain, for the three fell upon him, and in less time than it takes to tell of it, tore him into pieces, and began to devour him. They did not finish the meal, however, for the two rifles behind the log cracked once and again, and all three wolves lay dead beside the comrade whom they had punished so terribly.
"I have every reason to believe this story literally true," continued my father; "and the other day I told it to Mr. E. S. Ellis, the well-known writer of stories of Western adventure.