tightened with the caution of men who were apprehensive of
danger and who would take no chances.

In winter time the foes most feared by the settlers were the timber
wolves. Thousands of these savage beasts infested the wild forest
regions which bounded the lonely roads, and their wonderful power of
scent and swift and tireless pursuit made a long night ride a thing
to be dreaded. While the horses moved swiftly danger from wolves was
not imminent; but carelessness or some mishap to a trace or a wheel
had been the cause of more than one tragedy.

Therefore it was not remarkable that the drivers of our party
breathed a sigh of relief when the top of the last steep hill had
been reached. The girls were quiet, and tired out and cold they
pressed close to one another; the men were silent and watchful.

When they were half way home and had just reached the outskirts of
the Black Forest the keen ear of Wetzel caught the cry of a wolf. It
came from the south and sounded so faint that Wetzel believed at
first that he had been mistaken. A few moments passed in which the
hunter turned his ear to the south. He had about made up his mind
that he had only imagined he had heard something when the
unmistakable yelp of a wolf came down on the wind. Then another,
this time clear and distinct, caused the driver to turn and whisper
to Wetzel. The hunter spoke in a low tone and the driver whipped up
his horses. From out the depths of the dark woods along which they
were riding came a long and mournful howl. It was a wolf answering
the call of his mate. This time the horses heard it, for they threw
back their ears and increased their speed. The girls heard it, for
they shrank closer to the men.

There is that which is frightful in the cry of a wolf. When one is
safe in camp before a roaring fire the short, sharp bark of a wolf
is startling, and the long howl will make one shudder. It is so
lonely and dismal. It makes no difference whether it be given while
the wolf is sitting on his haunches near some cabin waiting for the
remains of the settler's dinner, or while he is in full chase after
his prey--the cry is equally wild, savage and bloodcurdling.

Betty had never heard it and though she was brave, when the howl
from the forest had its answer in another howl from the creek
thicket, she slipped her little mittened hand under Wetzel's arm and
looked up at him with frightened eyes.

In half an hour the full chorus of yelps, barks and