The Rover Boys on Sunset Trail by Arthur M. Winfield - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XXIV
 
THE TIMBER WOLVES

“Now we are in a pickle!”

“I’ll say so! Why, we haven’t even got our clothing, much less our guns!”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Don’t ask me! I was never good at answering riddles!”

Thus speaking, the four Rover boys gazed in wonder and astonishment at the sight before them. Sneaking along cautiously were three large gray timber wolves, gaunt and fierce in appearance. They had evidently been attracted to the spot by the scent of the boys and the horses and also, possibly, by the bacon in the supplies.

“There comes another one,” said Fred.

“Yes, and two more are crouched up on the rocks a short distance behind,” came from Jack.

“Six wolves! Maybe there’s a regular pack of them.”

“Shouldn’t wonder. They often travel in packs.”

“And they look hungry enough to eat us up,” came from Fred, and the tone of his voice showed that he felt anything but comfortable.

For the matter of that, all of the boys felt uneasy. Not only were they without their clothing but their four guns lay within a hundred feet of where the three leading wolves were standing.

The horses had also discovered the wolves and were now snorting wildly and trying to break from their tethers. Charley Boy, Randy’s mount, was particularly nervous, probably from his experience with the mountain lion.

The wolves had been sniffing first in the direction of the boys’ clothing and then in the direction of the supplies and the horses. Now they looked across the small arm of the lake at the boys themselves and uttered a series of snarls, baring their teeth as they did so.

“Oh, if I only had a rifle or a heavy shotgun!” murmured the young major.

“Can’t we heave some rocks at them?” suggested Fred.

“I don’t think it would do any good,” answered Randy. “We’re too far off. We were foolish to rove around in a wild place like this without our guns.”

Although the wolves snarled viciously, they did not as yet make any attempt to approach the four boys. Instead, while two sniffed at the clothing on the rocks, turning it over with their noses and paws, the others loped over to the supplies.

This was more than the horses could stand, and, plunging wildly, one after another broke his tether and shot off out of sight along the mountainside.

“Good-by to the horses!” cried Fred. “Now we sure are in a pickle even if we can manage to get rid of those wolves.”

“They’re coming this way!” yelled Randy.

“Pick up as many loose stones as you can carry,” ordered Jack. “Then wade out into the lake. I guess it’s about the only thing we can do.”

Three of the wolves were advancing around the arm of the lake in the direction of the boys. Evidently they were exceedingly hungry, for otherwise they would have run away at the sight of human beings.

Small stones were handy, and it did not take the four boys long to pick up half a dozen each. Then they waded out in the lake until they were in water up to their waists. By this time the three wolves had reached the flat rock on which the youths had been resting. They snarled repeatedly, showing their fangs, and their eyes gleamed in a manner that indicated they would like nothing better than to get hold of the lads and make a meal of them.

“Let ’em have a dose of rocks!” cried Jack. “Be careful how you throw! Don’t waste your ammunition!”

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“LET THEM HAVE A DOSE OF ROCKS,” CRIED JACK.

He let fly, and so did the others, and all the wolves were hit in the head or in the side. They set up a fearful howl of commingled pain and rage and then made a move as if to leap into the lake after the lads.

While this was going on the other wolves had approached the duffel bags of the boys and were tearing the outfit apart in an endeavor to get at the bacon and dried beef the lads carried.

Crack!

It was the report of a rifle and the shot startled the boys quite as much as it did the wolves. Then came a second crack, and, looking across the arm of the lake, the boys saw one of the big gray wolves leap into the air and fall back lifeless. Then came a third shot and a second wolf sprang into the air and then came down and with a wild snarl went limping away into the forest.

“Hurrah, somebody has come to our assistance!” cried Jack. “Give it to ’em! Give it to ’em good and plenty!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Plug every one of ’em!” came from Andy.

“Shoot ’em down!” added his twin.

“Don’t let any of them get away!” was the way Fred expressed himself.

At the first crack of the rifle the three wolves that had come after the boys raised their heads to listen. Then, as they saw one wolf killed and another wounded, they waited no longer, but, turning, leaped swiftly over the rocks and then up the mountainside, their movements being hastened by a bullet that hit the rocks between them as they fled. In the meanwhile the remaining wolves had also taken their departure.

Satisfied that the coast was now clear, the boys swam across the arm of the lake. As they did this they saw a somewhat elderly man approaching on horseback, his rifle in his hands. He was a tall man with a short-cut black beard and he wore a miner’s outfit.

“Reckon I come just about in time,” he sang out as he watched the approach of the boys. “Didn’t think any timber wolves would attack you like that.” And then he replaced the empty cartridges in the magazine rifle with fresh ones and waited for the lads to come up.

“It was fine of you to arrive as you did,” sang out Jack, who was the first out of the water. “We were caught good and plenty with our guns over in our outfits yonder.”

“Where do you belong? I don’t think I ever saw you before,” said the miner, as he dismounted. Then he added quickly: “You ain’t them Rover boys, are you?”

“Yes, we are,” answered Jack.

“Well, now, ain’t that great!” and the miner began to grin broadly. “Bet you a dollar you don’t know who I am.”

“We know you’re our friend,” came quickly from Fred.

“I’m Lew Billings,” answered the miner. “I guess Mr. Tom Rover has talked about me.”

“Lew Billings!” gasped all of the boys in concert.

“That’s it! And I’m downright glad I got here just in time to take care of them timber wolves for you. That one yonder is as dead as a doornail, and I don’t think them others will bother you again for a while. You see, timber wolves has been multiplying most amazing in Canada, and they’ve got so thick they’re slipping all over us down here. There’s a bounty on killing ’em, but what it is I don’t just know.”

“But where have you been, Mr. Billings?” questioned Randy. “My dad has been looking all over for you.”

“I know it, lad. But I had to lay low. I had a good reason for doing it, too. Your father will know all about it as soon as I reach him. I understand he’s stopping with Cal Corning.”

“He is,” put in Andy. And then he went on: “From what Hank Butts said, my dad thought you might have been made a prisoner by Mr. Garrish.”

“So I was. And Garrish wanted me to sign some reports that was all false. I wouldn’t do it, and I got away from him and since that time I’ve been spying on him and on them fellers who’re running the Bigwater crusher. I’ve got a lot to tell Mr. Rover when I see him. And I’ve got an account to settle with Peter Garrish, too,” went on the old miner.

The boys dressed, and while so doing Lew Billings gave them a few particulars of what had happened to him. But he was in a hurry to go on and left them as soon as he felt satisfied that they were now able to take care of themselves.

“As you’ve all been to a military academy you ought to know how to shoot,” he declared. “And as you’ve got your guns and also a couple of pistols with you, it ain’t likely that you’ll have any more trouble—especially if you keep your firearms handy. You don’t want to prowl around in these mountains without some kind of a gun.”

“Believe me, you won’t catch us without our guns again,” answered Fred.

“Even when I sleep I’m going to have a pistol under my pillow,” added Randy.

They thanked Lew Billings heartily for what he had done and then watched the old miner as he rode away on Sunset Trail in the direction of Gold Hill Falls.

“If you ask me, I’ll say he was a friend in need if ever there was one,” declared the young major. “I don’t know what we’d have done if he hadn’t come along.”

“It ought to be a lesson to us to be on our guard,” answered Fred.

“Now I am armed, oh, how I’d love to get a shot at those wolves!” remarked Andy.

“What about the horses?” questioned Randy. “We’ve got to find those animals. I think the quicker we get after them the better. If they’re allowed to stay away all night there’s no telling if we’ll ever be able to round ’em up.”

But rounding up the four horses proved easier than expected. None of them had gone away any great distance. Two of them were found on Sunset Trail just above the lake and the others in the bushes on the mountainside. They were rather difficult to handle for a few minutes, but presently calmed down when spoken to soothingly.

The boys did not know exactly what to do with the lean gray wolf that had been laid low by Billings’s bullet. At first they thought to skin the animal and save the pelt. But the hair was poor at this time of year, and none of the boys relished the labor, so they simply dragged the carcass down the lake shore for a distance, and then threw it in an opening between the rocks.

By nightfall the boys had erected their little shelter and had a campfire going, and all did their share in preparing the evening meal and in cleaning the dishes afterward.

“Wonder what will happen to-night,” said Randy, as they turned in, thoroughly tired out over the happenings of the day. “Maybe we’ll see more wolves, or a mountain lion or a bear.”

None of them cared to admit it, yet each was a trifle nervous, thinking that possibly the timber wolves might return. But nothing came to disturb them, and, having made sure that their campfire would not set fire to the forest around them, one after another fell asleep and slumbered soundly until after sunrise.

The next day proved to be one of unalloyed pleasure for all the boys. In the morning they went fishing and managed to get a good-sized catch. In the afternoon they tramped through the forest and there managed to bag several squirrels and also a somewhat larger animal which none of them could name.

“I thought we’d strike a bear, or something like that,” said Andy.

“I guess you want too much,” answered Fred, with a laugh.

The boys returned to camp while it was still light. All were hungry and immediately set to work to clean some of the fish for supper. They were hard at work at this when they saw a man on horseback riding rapidly toward them.

“That man acts as if he wanted to see us in a hurry,” said Jack, as he straightened up and watched the fellow’s approach.

The man was a stranger to them and eyed them inquiringly as he came closer.

“Are you the Rovers?” he demanded.

“We are,” answered Jack. “What of it?”

“I’ve got bad news for you,” was the man’s answer. “Mr. Tom Rover has been seriously hurt, and the other fellows think you had better come to see him just as soon as possible.”