them off with his gun and to ably assist his companion in
continuing the slaughter. The wolf he had first shot was attacked by its
comrades, too, for at the smell and taste of blood the creatures showed
all the characteristics of cannibals.

Nevertheless, Enoch and the man crouching at his feet, had all they
could do to defend themselves from the charges of the remaining wolves.
If the beasts sprang high the boy met them with long-arm swings of his
rifle; if they fell short the axe or the knife flashed and the wolves
limped away with savage howls, their blood dyeing the frozen surface of
the creek. For yards about the besieged the ice soon had the appearance
of a mighty strife and although he had only received a scratch or two
himself, Enoch was well spattered with blood.

Hunger and the issue from their own veins drowned the natural cowardice
of the canines. They charged blindly, and as fast as one went down
beneath the blows of Enoch's gun, or was seriously wounded by his
companion, another wolf sprang to the attack. Three already lay dead on
the ice, torn limb from limb by their comrades, and three others limped
upon the outer edge of the circle, seriously wounded; but still the
fierce brutes sprang at their prey, and sprang again!

Involuntarily Enoch shouted aloud at every blow he struck, but his
companion maintained a desperate silence. The boy did not cry out
because he expected any aid; yet assistance was within call. A figure
came running over the ice from up stream and the sharp crack of a rifle
announced the approach of Lot Breckenridge, who had come out to meet his
friend. Another wolf rolled over in the throes of death, to be seized by
its companions and torn to pieces with horrid cries. Lot came on with
shouts of encouragement and together with Enoch laid about him with
clubbed rifle until the remaining wolves, their cries now turned to
yelps of fear, stampeded from the scene of the battle and sought safety
in the forest, from the edge of which they howled their disappointment
at their antagonists.

It was Lot who first regained his breath and spoke. "Zuckers! but that
was a great fight," he cried, hugging Enoch in his joy at finding him
practically unhurt. "But you look as though you had been killin' beeves,
Nuck. And who's this with you?" The individual in question rose stiffly
to his feet with a significant "Umph!" "Why!" exclaimed Lot, "it's an
Injin--it's Crow Wing! Where'd you pick him up, Nuck?"