I'll bushwhack her as sure
as my name is Bill."
"You needn't stray off too far in doin' it," his partner admonished. "If
that pack ever starts to jump you, them three cartridges'd be wuth no
more'n three whoops in hell. Them animals is damn hungry, an' once they
start in, they'll sure get you, Bill."
They camped early that night. Three dogs could not drag the sled so fast
nor for so long hours as could six, and they were showing unmistakable
signs of playing out. And the men went early to bed, Bill first seeing
to it that the dogs were tied out of gnawing-reach of one another.
But the wolves were growing bolder, and the men were aroused more than
once from their sleep. So near did the wolves approach, that the dogs
became frantic with terror, and it was necessary to replenish the fire
from time to time in order to keep the adventurous marauders at safer
distance.
"I've hearn sailors talk of sharks followin' a ship," Bill remarked, as
he crawled back into the blankets after one such replenishing of the
fire. "Well, them wolves is land sharks. They know their business
better'n we do, an' they ain't a-holdin' our trail this way for their
health. They're goin' to get us. They're sure goin' to get us, Henry."
"They've half got you a'ready, a-talkin' like that," Henry retorted
sharply.
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