The making of a man

by W. D. Flatt

His dream met a sudden interruption. The wolves had been more troublesome than usual that night, and occasionally, as he had seen their eyes gleaming in the circle outside the camp-fire, Robert had made good use of his shotgun. Suddenly, with howls from the pack, one animal larger than the rest made a dash straight for him and in his own way called to the others to follow. Fortunately, Robert’s gun was ready, and the first wolf fell in his track. Here again came into play the stamina and the self-control which had been bred into Robert in the island home and which had been developed during his years in Canada. An ordinary man, or one less experienced, would have flunked under the situation, but Robert kept cool and made certain that whenever he was able to fire the shot would have the expected effect. Finally, when two or three animals closed in and he could not handle his muzzle-loader quickly enough to be of further service he used a huge, burning brand and, swinging it around his head in fiery circles, drove the band back from the little camp. After this he built up the fire freshly, and the new blaze served to keep the animals away until day dawned.

The next day the struggle was resumed, and in spite of the difficulties, in spite of the cold, in spite of the protest on the part of the dogs and the prisoner, mile after mile was gained on the long journey. The day had been quiet so far as storm was concerned, but in mid-afternoon the sky suddenly turned black until the heavens seemed dropping to earth. Then, as the little party passed out of a patch of woods, howls were heard as though coming from everywhere, and Robert realized that the pack of the night before had been largely reinforced and that he would have to meet another testing period. This time he knew that the situation would be more trying, and with a view to getting what help he could he threw the harness from the dogs, knowing that they would defend themselves bravely. He looked to the prisoner to see what aid could be expected from him, but again the character of the man showed itself in his face, since abject fear was stamped thereon. He was desperately afraid. Robert knew, however, that if it came to the worst this human brute would be of some service, and in his sense of justice he knew that the man should be given a chance at least to fight for his life. Besides, he had undertaken the duty of landing the prisoner alive at his destination, and he readily understood that unless every possible effort were made in the present crisis it was probable that his duty would not be fulfilled. The prisoner was rather surprised, and for once a spark of gratefulness came to his eyes when the chains binding his arms and hands were removed and the axe placed beside him. Robert placed his back to a tree where he could watch the prisoner and at the same time keep the wolves from surrounding him.

He was ready just in time, for the hungry animals, with hanging tongues and fiery eyes, seemed to be rushing in from every direction. Crack! went the young man’s gun, and as quickly as he could load and fire a wolf fell. No bullets were wasted. Every one told. Don, the old leader of the dogs, took his share in the fight also, challenging the leaders of the pack and taking a place directly in front of the young man. On and on the animals came, pushing one another forward, climbing over the bodies of those which fell at the shots from the gun. After a minute or two of fighting old Don went down. Robert was in process of loading. He jammed the charge to the bottom of the barrel, drew out the ramrod and fired into the middle of the pack; then seeing that his leader must be saved and that time could not be wasted to re-load, he dropped his gun, grabbed his axe and waded into the pack, swinging the weapon right and left. The prisoner for once was proving himself useful. This time he was fighting for his own life. He knew what the outcome would be unless he bore his share of the responsibility, and he showed that he knew well how to swing an axe. Wolf after wolf fell from the blows of the heavy weapon. In one instant, when he had felled a wolf at one side, another sprang for his throat. Robert had been trying to watch the man out of the corner of his eye (for he knew he could not trust him) while he had been struggling with the wolf pack, and had his opinion as to the strength and ability of the prisoner in a country of this kind confirmed. With seemingly more than human strength the huge fellow tore the wolf from his throat and threw him back among the others, at the same time administering a blow of the axe with the other hand to another which had pressed in on him from the right.

“WOLF AFTER WOLF FELL FROM THE BLOWS.”

For minutes the struggle continued. Don and the other dogs fought valiantly, but the numbers were overwhelming, and looking around him Robert saw that the members of his team were helpless, most of them lying dead. At the moment he did not realize the situation, but had one been looking on the impression gained would have been decidedly grim. The clothing of both the fighting men had been badly torn. Gashes had been made in various places on their bodies. Their hands were wounded and bloody. Robert, however, was as full of fight as ever. Finally there came a headlong rush of the wolves, which with difficulty was beaten back, and then a lull. Half the pack had been disposed of and the remainder apparently had not the courage to continue the struggle. With tails between their legs they one by one withdrew to the shades of the forest.

When this danger was over Robert was sure from the glint in the prisoner’s eyes that he was face to face with a new one. While the man could only move slowly on his feet, he took up a threatening attitude. Robert had been prepared to thank him for the part he had taken in the struggle, and even in the face of this threat held his temper accordingly. Advancing toward the prisoner, but keeping out of reach, he asked him calmly to submit to having the irons placed on his wrists again. The answer came back quickly and viciously in the negative. With an oath the villain said:

“I have been fighting for my life. I will fight you now for my freedom. It is up to you and me to settle our accounts.”

Decision came to the young man like a flash. Before the fellow could move he grabbed the handle of the axe with a grip of steel and at the same time dealt the man a crack on the chin which laid him for the moment helpless. While the giant was unconscious the irons were again fastened on his wrists, and while he was returning to consciousness a fire was kindled in a section of the wood removed from the scene of struggle, to which he was dragged and made as comfortable as possible on a blanket. When he came to Robert was eyeing him steadily, and when he saw that his man could understand him he said, firmly: