It was soon seen that nothing could be done for the woodman, who
had been killed almost instantly. Harry, therefore, proceeded to
cut off Ernest's coat-sleeve and bathed the wound. The flesh was
badly torn, and the arm was so useless that he thought that some
bones were broken. Having done his best to bandage the wound,
he strapped the arm firmly across the body, so as to prevent its
being shaken by the motion of the riding. It was with the greatest
difficulty that they were able to lift the body of the wolf, but
could not lay it across the horse, as the animal plunged and kicked
and refused to allow it to be brought near. Ernest was able to
assist but little, for now that the excitement was over he felt
faint and sick with the pain of his wound.

"I think you had better ride off, Harry, and bring some one to our
assistance. I will wait here till you come back."

"I don't like to do that," Harry said. "They must be seven or eight
miles away, and I may not be able to find them. They may have moved
away to some other part of the forest. Ah! I have an idea! Suppose
I cut a pole, tie the wolf's legs together and put the pole through
them; then we can hoist the pole up and lash its ends behind the
two saddles. The horses may not mind so much if it's not put upon
their backs."


"That might do," Ernest agreed; "but you mustn't make the pole more
than six or seven feet long, or we shall have difficulty in riding
between the trees.