leaps and bounds, which made the sledge bounce and sway in a very
erratic fashion.
"You won't say the indiscretion was worth while if it turns out
that we are the second arrivals and not the first," Katherine
answered. But her tone was buoyant and hopeful; for she had little
doubt about getting to the scene of her father's accident before
Oily Dave and Stee Jenkin had succeeded in locating the spot.
"Wolves! listen to them!" exclaimed Miles, as a hideous yapping and
howling sounded across the snowy waste.
"They are a good way off though, and I brought a pair Of Father's
revolvers in case of accident," Katherine replied, her heart
beating a little quicker, although in reality she would much rather
have met two or three wolves just then than have encountered Oily
Dave and the man who had wanted to buy the Black Crow tobacco.
"I'm glad you thought to bring them," said Miles. "Nick Jones told
me the wolves are uncommonly hungry for so early in the year, and
they are in great numbers too. He trapped twenty last week."
"That means twenty less to bother us to-night, which is a great
comfort," she answered, laughing nervously, for the yapping and
howling seemed to be coming nearer and nearer. Then, recognizing a
landmark, she cried out joyfully: "Oh, here is the place, and there
hangs the broken snowshoe!"
"What is that?" cried Miles sharply, as a shadowy something slid
away out of sight among the trees, a something that was so much
like its surroundings as to be hardly distinct from them.
"A wolf. Look at the dogs. Mind what you are about, Miles, or
they'll bolt!" she called quickly. They were both on the ground
now, and the boy was trying to hold in the dogs, which were
barking, raging, howling, and whining, making a violent uproar, and
all striving to get free in order to rush at that something which
had slid out of sight among the trees a minute before.
"We must tie them up. I can't hold the brutes. They pull as if
they were mad," said Miles breathlessly, while the dogs struggled
and fought, nearly dragging him off his feet, as he tried to keep
them from dashing away in pursuit of what they deemed a legitimate
quarry.
Katherine swung a rope with a running noose over the head and
shoulders of the leader, a huge white dog with a black patch on its
back like a saddle.
"There, my fine fellow; now perhaps you will understand that this
is not playtime, but a working day extending into the night,"
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