observed; "he was coming along on foot when he
saw a pack of wolves following him, and instead of continuing on the ice
he made his way for the shore, to try and reach a tree into which he
could climb--the wisest thing he could do."

Having made this remark, he led the way in the direction the other
Indian had taken. He soon overtook him; but as darkness was increasing
we had to proceed slowly, so as not to lose the trail, which I was
utterly unable to perceive. The banks here were of a low, marshy
nature, so that there were few trees about up which the fugitive could
have escaped. I did not confidently expect to meet Mike on this
occasion, for he, I thought, would have come along on his skates,
whereas this person, the Indian said, was on foot.

We had not gone far when Kepenau stopped. "That is the howl of wolves,"
he observed; "but it is accompanied by a curious sound, and they are not
howling in their usual fashion."

Advancing further, I could clearly distinguish the howling of the
wolves, accompanied by another sound.

"Why, as I am alive, those are the tones of Mike Laffan's fiddle!"
exclaimed Uncle Mark. "He is safe, at all events--that is one comfort;
but it is a curious place to be playing in."

Kepenau now told us that the path we were following would lead us to the
ruins of an old fort, erected by the early French settlers, and that he
had little doubt our friend had found his way to it for refuge from the
wolves; but they had followed him, and were certainly not far off.

We hurried on, and as the sounds of the fiddle became more distinct, the
full moon rose from behind a dark mass which proved to be a ruined wall
of the building; and immediately afterwards, directly in front of us, we
discovered Mike Laffan seated on one of the time-worn and rickety beams
which had once formed part of the fort. There he was, bow in hand,
fiddling with might and main; while below him were a whole pack of
wolves, their mouths open, singing an inharmonious chorus to his music.
So entranced were they, that the brutes actually did not discover us;
nor, so far as we could see, were they making any attempt to reach Mike.

At a sign from Kepenau we stopped; but Mike, though he had perceived us,
went on fiddling. Presently he changed the tune to one of extraordinary
rapidity: this evidently astonished his vulpine audience, which began to
leap about. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Now! shout, friends, shout! and we
shall pu