bell. John, after a time, having, as usual, rubbed
down his rifle, threw it on his shoulder, and, calling the dogs which
lay about, sallied forth for a walk, followed by the whole pack except
old Sancho, who invariably accompanied the girls to the cow-house.

Mary and Emma tripped over the new-beaten snow-path to the cow-house,
merry and cheerful, with their pails in their hands, Emma laughing at
Captain Sinclair's disappointment at not being permitted to accompany
them. They had just arrived at the cow-house, when old Sancho barked
furiously, and sprang to the side of the building behind them, and in a
moment afterward rolled down the snowheap which he had sprung over,
holding on and held fast by a large black wolf. The struggle was not
very long, and during the time that it lasted the girls were so
panic-struck, that they remained like statues within two yards of the
animals. Gradually the old dog was overpowered by the repeated snapping
bites of the wolf, yet he fought nobly to the last, when he dropped
under the feet of the wolf, his tongue hanging out, and bleeding
profusely and lifeless. As soon as his adversary was overpowered, the
enraged animal, with his feet upon the body of the dog, bristling his
hair and showing his powerful teeth, was evidently about to attack the
young women. Emma threw her arm around Mary's waist, advancing her body
so as to save her sister. Mary attempted the same, and then they
remained waiting in horror for the expected spring of the animal, when
of a sudden the other dogs came rushing forward, cheered on by John, and
flew upon the animal. Their united strength soon tore him down to the
ground, and John coming up, as the wolf defended himself against his new
assailants, put the muzzle of his rifle to the animal's head, and shot
it dead.

The two sisters had held up during the whole of this alarming struggle;
but as soon as they perceived the wolf was dead and that they were safe,
Mary could stand no longer, and sank down on her knees, supporting her
sister, who had become insensible.

If John showed gallantry in shooting the wolf, he certainly showed very
little toward his cousins. He looked at Mary, nodded his head toward the
wolf's body, and saying "He's dead," shouldered his rifle, turned round
and walked back to the house.

On his return he found that the party had just come back from hauling up
the punt, and were waiting the return of the Miss Percivals to go to
breakfast.