against the wall of the hut close at hand was a bow and quiver
of arrows. The lad looked at the sun, which was sinking
towards the horizon.

"Father is late," he said. "I trust that no harm has come
to him and Egbert. He said he would return to-day without
fail; he said three or four days, and this is the fourth. It is
dull work here alone. You think so, Wolf, don't you, old fellow?
And it is worse for you than it is for me, pent up on this
hummock of ground with scarce room to stretch your limbs."

A great wolf-hound, who was lying with his head between
his paws by the embers of a fire in the centre of the
hut, raised his head on being addressed, and uttered a low
howl indicative of his agreement with his master's opinion
and his disgust at his present place of abode.

"Never mind, old fellow," the boy continued, "we sha'n't
be here long, I hope, and then you shall go with me in the
woods again and hunt the wolves to your heart's content."
The great hound gave a lazy wag of his tail. "And now, Wolf,
I must go. You lie here and guard the hut while I am away.
Not that you are likely to have any strangers to call in my
absence."

The dog rose and stretched himself, and followed his
master down the path until it terminated at the edge of the
water. Here he gave a low whimper as the lad stepped in and
waded through the water; then turning he walked back to
the hut and threw himself down at the door. The boy proceeded