THE FIRST NIGHT IN CAMP


Whopper was not much frightened. He had met wolves before and he did
not think that the pack on the ice would dare to attack him and his
friends. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he watched the beasts
closely, and when they came still nearer he rushed into the shelter
and grabbed up his shotgun.

"What's the row?" asked Shep sleepily, disturbed by the unusual
bustle.

"Four wolves are on the ice in front of the shelter," explained
Whopper. "Reckon I'll give them a shot."

"I'll go along," and the doctor's son sprang up and reached for his
own firearm.

When Whopper got outside again, followed by Shep, he saw the wolves
had approached still closer. There were now seven of them, and they
stood in a semi-circle, sniffing the air suspiciously. The man-smell
was strong, and this they did not like, for to them it betokened only
danger. Yet mingled with the man-smell was the smell of chicken and
rabbit meat, and this pleased them, for they were hungry.

"Let us both fire together," suggested Shep. "Each of us ought to
bring down at least one. You can fire to the right and I'll fire to
the left of the line."