funny and act funny."

"Strikes me the same way," replied Dick with a grin. "But
they're robbers, or would be if they could. That meat's ours,
and they're trying to get it."

It was in truth a hard case for the wolves. They were very big
and very strong. Doubtless, the selfsame wolf that had been
driven away from the Annex by the mountain lion was among them,
and all of them were atrociously hungry. It was not merely an
odor now, they could also see the splendid food hanging just
above their heads. Never before had they leaped so persistently,
so ardently, and so high, but there was no reward, absolutely
none. Not a tooth felt the touch of flesh. The wolves looked
around at one another jealously, but the record was as clean as
their teeth. There had been no surreptitious captures.

"Will they keep it up all night?" whispered Albert.

"Can't say," replied Dick. "We'll just watch."

All the wolves presently stopped leaping and crouched on the
earth, staring straight up at the prizes which hung, as ever,
most tantalizingly out of reach. The moonlight fell full upon
them, a score or more, and Albert fancied that he could see their
hungry, disappointed eyes. The spectacle was at once weird and
ludicrous. Albert felt again that temptation to laugh, but he
restrained it.

Suddenly the wolves, as if it were a preconcerted matter, uttered
one long, simultaneous howl, full, alike in its rising and
falling note, of pain, anguish, and despair, then they were gone
in such swiftness and silence that it was like the instant
melting of ghosts into thin air. It took a little effort of will
to persuade Albert that they had really been there.

"They've given it up," he said. "The demon dancers have gone."

"Demon dancers fits them," said Dick. "It's a good name.
Yes, they've gone, and I don't think they'll come back. Wolves
are smart, they know when they're wasting time."

When they finished jerking their buffalo meat and venison, Dick
took the fine double-barreled shotgun which they had used but
little hitherto, and went down to the lake in search of succulent
waterfowl. The far shore of the lake was generally very high,
but on the side of the cabin there were low places, little
shallow bays, the bottoms covered with grass, which were much
frequented by wild geese and wild ducks, many of which, owing to
the open character of the winter, had not yet gone southward.
The ducks, in particular, muscovy, mallard,