It was probably the screech of the worsted catamount.
“Keep all the guns loaded,” cautioned Jerry. “I don’t believe we’ll have to do much more shooting, though. We’ve taught the wolves a bitter lesson. They know they can’t make a meal of us.”
But he had barely spoken when a scratching noise was heard overhead. The entire cabin seemed to totter and sway.
“The pack are on the roof,” cried Brick. “They must have climbed over the rocks. Everything will be down on us in a minute.”
“At least three or four of the brutes are there,” declared Hamp. “Just hear them digging. Let’s all fire together.”
But before a single weapon could be raised the flimsy roof parted in the center with a dull, ripping noise. Through the gap tumbled a heap of snow from the trees above, and then followed a snapping, snarling wolf, landing squarely upon the terrified boys.