Uncle Mark recollected that he had
forgotten to write to Uncle Stephen upon a matter of importance.

"You, Roger, and Mike, can go on ahead," he said, "while I finish my
letter, which I will leave with Quambo to be forwarded; and I will soon
overtake you."

As there was now light enough for us to see our way through the forest,
we commenced our tramp. There was no risk of our taking the wrong road,
seeing there was but one--along the course of the stream, which ran into
the larger river; and it was now frozen in such a manner as to afford us
a good highway. Mike was always amusing, and I was glad of his company;
besides which, as we had had a good start of my uncle, I was in hopes
that we might have time to get a shot at something.

We had accomplished three or four miles, and I had begun to wonder why
Uncle Mark had not overtaken us, as he was a quick walker, and intended
to carry only his axe, and a small skin bag over his shoulder containing
some necessaries. We were looking about us, in the hope of catching
sight of a raccoon or opossum, or some larger game, when a howl, such as
had aroused us one night a short time before, sounded through the
forest.

"Sure, that comes from a pack of wolves," observed Mike. "But no! I
belave one of the brutes is capable of making that noise. We have heard
the echoes among the trees. I hope that there are not many of them, as
they might take it into their heads to attack us, and that would not be
pleasant."

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.