We went on, however, troubling ourselves very little about the wolf, for I felt sure that there was only one, or a couple at the most. The stream, as we proceeded, became wider, running round the foot of some hills, with larches scattered on either side, their boughs bent down by the snow which had frozen hard on them. The sky had become cloudy by this time, too, and there was every appearance of a fresh fall.
“Surely Uncle Mark will be up with us soon, Mike!” I observed.
But scarcely had I spoken when I heard my uncle shouting to us. He was in the middle of the frozen stream, and was hurrying towards us, axe in hand. He had good reason to keep it there, for just then we saw a huge wolf rush out from behind a clump of trees close at hand. He stopped to receive his assailant, which, probably well nigh famished, seemed bent on his destruction.
Mike, without saying a word, had unslung the gun and dropped on his knee, for there was not a moment to be lost. In another instant the fierce wolf would have sprung at my uncle’s throat, and might have taken his life; or, at all events, have severely injured him, and that before we could get near enough to render him any assistance. It all depended on Mike’s steady aim, therefore; and although I was
a good shot, still I was thankful that he had the gun.
He fired; and the brute, the moment that it was making its spring, fell over, snarling and hissing, with its shoulder broken. A blow on the head from my uncle’s axe finished its existence.
“You have rendered me good service, Laffan,” said my uncle, when we got up to him. “Had you not taken steady aim, that brute’s fangs would have been at my throat in another moment.”
“Faix, thin, Mr Mark, it is only what I would have wished to be done,” answered Mike. “And if you ever catch sight of a bear about to give me a hug, or such a brute as this at my heels,”—and he gave the dead wolf a kick—“you will be afther shooting him, sure enough!”
“Well, Mike, we shall then be quits. In the meantime I am your debtor,” answered my uncle, laughing. Notwithstanding the danger he had been in, he was quite unmoved. His cheek had not lost its ruddy glow, nor did a limb tremble.