"

"No, grandpapa. The horrid, cruel things! What did they say?"

"Well, of course wolf talk is rude, even savage, and dreadfully
profane. As near as I could make out, one fellow screamed, 'Shame,
boy, taking an unfair advantage of poor starving wolves!' It seemed as
if another fellow yelled, 'You young coward!' A third cried, 'Oh, yes,
you think you're safe, do you?' A fourth, '_Yow--yow_--but we can wait
till you come down!'"

Grandpapa mimicked the wolfish voices and looks so effectively that
Jenny was rather alarmed.

"One old fellow seemed to suggest that they should go away and look
for more venison for supper, while he kept watch on me. At that there
was a general howl of derision. They seemed to me to be telling the
old fellow that they were just as fond of boy as he, and that they
understood his little game.

"The old chap evidently tried to explain, but they grinned with all
their teeth as he turned from one to another. You must not suppose,
chickens, that wolves have no sense of humor. Yet, poor things--"

"Poor things! Why, grandpapa!"

"Yes, Jenny; so lean and hungry, you know. Then one of them suddenly
caught sight of my head, and didn't he yell! 'There he is--look up the
tree!' cried Mr. Wolf.

"For a few moments they were silent. Then they sprang all at once,
absurdly anxious to get nearer to me, twenty-five feet or so above
their reach. On falling, they tumbled into several heaps of mouths and
legs and tails. After scuffling and separating, they gazed up at me
with silent longing. I should have been very popular for a few minutes
had I gone down."

Jenny shuddered, and then nestled closer to her grandfather.

"Don't be afraid, Jenny. They didn't eat me--not that time. After a
few moments' staring I became very impolite. 'Boo-ooh!' said I.
'Yah-ha-ha!' said I. 'You be shot!' I cried. They resented it. Even
wolves love to be gently addressed.

"They began yelling, snarling, and howling at me worse than
politicians at a sarcastic member of the opposite party. I imitated
them. Nevertheless, I was beginning to be frightened. The weather was
turning cold, night was coming on, and I didn't like the prospect of
staying till morning.

"All of a sudden I began laughing. I had till then forgotten my pistol
and pocketful of cartridges. There were seventeen nice wolves--"

"Nice! Why, grandpa!"

"They seemed _very_ nice wolves when I recollected the county bounty
of six dollars for a wolf's head.