rsing a circle, the trail
now taking him in the direction of the cabin, he would have been obliged
to give up the pursuit. But now he passed through the ravine where the
deer had been wounded and up a steep slope towards home. By this time the
sun was going down, and from not far ahead of him Ree heard the howling
of wolves. If he could have looked but a little way into the future, he
would have taken the shortest route to the cabin.

However, wolves had never given much trouble and Ree had no thought of
being afraid, though the howling sounded nearer and nearer as he
continued on. Soon, however, he guessed what had happened. The wounded
deer, unable to escape, had been killed by the fierce dogs of the
wilderness which were now devouring it. And in another minute the boy saw
them at their awful feast. With anger and foolhardy courage he sprang
directly among the struggling beasts, clubbing them with his rifle.

Mad with starvation and the taste of fresh blood, one big wolf leaped
toward the courageous boy and others followed. He was barely able to hold
them at bay while he backed away toward a tree, swinging his rifle right
and left with desperate energy as he went. Closer and closer still the
wolves pressed him, snapping, snarling, howling--their long sharp teeth
and red throats being so near that he could almost feel their hot breath
on his face. But he reached the tree--a beech, one of whose lower limbs
was almost within reach. He leaped upward to seize it, but as he did so
his rifle caught on a bush and was jerked from his hand. A great gray
foamy-jawed creature snapped closely at his heels and by a hair's breadth
he escaped, as he drew himself quickly upward.

Howling like enraged demons the wolves gathered about the tree. They
seemed to know that sooner or later they would drink human blood. Ree
thought of this. His only weapon was the knife Capt. Bowen had given him,
which he always carried. But his active brain was busy and he determined
to take a desperate chance in an effort to secure his rifle.

CHAPTER XV.

A Maple Sugar Camp in the Wilderness.

Selecting a stout limb for his purpose, Ree set to work to cut and trim
it, making a short, heavy club. He believed that if he should jump
suddenly down among the wolves, their surprise would be so great as to
keep them away for perhaps a second--long enough to permit him to seize
his rifle, and again fight his way into the tree. As he trimmed the thick