d old Indian, working his way
into the Settlement after bad luck with his hunting and his trapping!
Whoever it was, he had no gun, or there would have been shooting
before this. Dave saw that he must go back and look into the matter.
But he was angry at this new delay. Cursing the wolves, and the Indian
who didn't know enough to take care of himself, Dave stole back to his
covert behind the hemlock branch, and peered forth once more, no
longer interested, but aggrieved.

The wolves were now sitting on their haunches around the hut door.
Their unusual behaviour convinced him that there was a man inside.
Well, there was no getting around the fact that he was in for a fight.
He only hoped that the chap inside was some good, and would have
"somethin' to say fer himself, darn him!" Dave gently lowered the
bundle from his back, and threw off his thick coat to allow his arms
freer play.

It was at this moment that the leader of the pack made up his mind to
crawl into the hut.

As the wolf's head entered the low opening, Dave gripped his axe,
thrust aside the hemlock branch, and silently darted forth into the
clearing. He did not shout, for he wanted to take his enemies, as far
as possible, unawares. He had but a score of yards to go. So intent
were they upon their leader's movements that Dave was almost upon them
ere they heeded the sound of his coming. Then they looked around.
Three shrank back, startled at the tall and threatening shape. But two
sprang at his throat with snapping jaws. The first met the full sweep
of his axe, in the chest and dropped in a heap. The second dodged a
short blow and warily drew back again. Then, from within the darkness
of the hut, came those screams of the madness of terror.

For one beat Dave's heart stopped. He knew the voice!

The big wolf was just backing out. He turned, jerking himself around
like a loosed spring, as he saw Dave towering over him. But he was not
in time. The axe descended, sheering his haunches across, and he
stretched out, working his great jaws convulsively. Dave saw that the
jaws had no blood upon them, and his own blood returned to his heart.
He had come in time. The screams within the hut died into piteous
sobs.

Across Dave's mind flamed a vision of the agony of horror that Lidey
had been suffering since first those howlings fell upon his ears. His
heart-break transformed itself into a mad rage of vengeance. As he
turned, with a hoarse shout, upon the rest of