by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER V DANGEROUS BUSINESS
The Indian who had promised to provide the boys with caribou meat had notdeceived them. At the appointed hour he had returned with an abundantsupply.
In his eagerness to secure provisions for a long lap of the journey, Joehad piled his sled high with meat. In doing this he had made a mistake,but this he did not know at the time.
Having paid the Indian, he lashed his rifle to the top of the load, and,shouting to his dogs, went racing away after his companions.
The short day was nearing its close when, on passing a turn in the trail,Joe found himself swinging out of the forest into an open stretch of wildmeadow.
He had hardly made a hundred rods of this open trail when he heard asharp howl which came from the edge of the forest.
"Wolves!" he muttered. "Caught the scent of this meat. Indians say it hasbeen a bad winter for wolves. Starving, I guess. Well, we'll show thoseboys our heels."
Reaching out to the sled as he traveled forward, he unlashed his rifleand threw it across his arm. As he did so, he caught his breath. Therewere, he suddenly remembered, but four cartridges in the rifle and noneon the sled. Their supply of ammunition was on Curlie's sled.
Shouting at the dogs, he gripped the handle of the sled with one hand andwith the rifle poised in the other, went pit-patting along over thetrail.
He had reached the center of the open space and was hoping to arrive atthe forest soon and find the others encamped there, when tragedy suddenlydescended upon him.
A dull crash was followed by a sickening thud. The sled, having beentwisted sideways in crossing a dry ravine, had crumpled down. Springingforward, the boy found that all the lashings and braces of one runnerwere torn away.
"Smashed beyond repair," he muttered. "Now how am I going to get thatmeat to camp?"
He thought of unhitching the dogs and of clinging to the main draw ropeas he raced away to his friends for aid. This thought was speedilybanished when a dismal, long-drawn howl came from the edge of the forest.
"Wolves," he muttered. "They'd eat it all."
He thought of making the canvas covering of his pack into an improvisedsled and placing the meat upon it, of hitching the dogs to that.
"Don't believe they could haul it," he decided. "The trail's too narrow.Snow on sides is too deep."
Again there came the dismal howl. This time it was followed by ayap-yap-yap. To the boy's consternation, this yapping was answered from adozen points at once.
"Lot of them out there. Gaunt, hungry beasts. Dangerous, I guess."
Again he thought of the four cartridges. They were not enough. He mightbe obliged to cut his team loose and make a dash for it.
The dogs heard the challenging call from the wild creatures of the forestand bunched together as if for defense. Their manes stood straight up.The leader, a part-hound, was growling in a low tone, as if talking tohimself.
This team of five dogs which Joe drove was a pick-up team. Besides thepart-hound leader, there was one huskie and three dogs of uncertainbreed. The huskie's team mate, Sport, was slight of build and inclined toshirk. The two "wheel-horses" were short, stocky fellows who worked wellin traces and showed signs of being good fighters.
Like some scout preparing for an Indian attack, Joe now loosened thedogs' traces from the sled. But that they might not rush out heedless ofdanger to be cut up by the merciless fangs of the wolves he chained eachdog to the sled.
"Time enough to let you at them later," he murmured. He felt a certainamount of security in their companionship.
Just what he meant to do, he did not for the moment know. Darkness hadfallen. Like twin glowworms, the eyes of the wolves shone at the edge ofthe forest. Already some of them were creeping out into the open. Therewere a number of them; just how many he could not tell.
"The one that sent out the call was probably the daddy of a largefamily," he told himself, "and he's invited the whole family to a feast.But," he said as he set his teeth hard, "there won't be any feast if Ican help it."
Leaning his rifle against the sled, he dropped his chin on his hands tolapse into deep thought. Then suddenly he leaped into action.
"Why didn't I think of that before?" he exclaimed as he tore at thewrappings of the sled.
He had thought of the radiophone equipment packed away on his sled, thereserve outfit which always rode there.
"If I can only get it set up," he told himself, "I'll be able to callCurlie. Then he and Jennings will make a dash for it. With rifles andplenty of ammunition they'll beat the wolves off. We'll feed some oftheir carcasses to the dogs and have that much more caribou meat forourselves."
His fingers trembled as he unpacked the detector and set it firmly uponthe overturned sled. He had caught the gleam of a pair of flashing eyesmuch closer than he had thought the wolves would dare to come. He hadcaught, too, the ominous sound of chop-chopping jaws. Pete, the huskie,was ki-yi-ing and straining at his chain. Major, the dog who alwaysguarded the sled at night, was sending forth a low rumbling challenge.
As Joe set his amplifier into position, he sent a flash of light from hiselectric torch full upon one of those gray beasts. The wolf, recoiling asif shot by a rifle, doubled into a heap, then sprang snarling away.
Joe laughed at this wild demonstration of fear. The next instant his facesobered. He was surprised at the size of these timber wolves and at theirgauntness.
"Starved to skin and bones. Ready for anything," he muttered grimly as heset two jointed poles straight up in the snow.
From the top of these poles hung suspended his coil aerial. Thereremained but to connect the batteries. He was bent over the sled, intentupon making these connections secure, when he was startled by a mad chopof jaws directly behind him. The next instant there was a wild whirlingof legs and fur, as Major engaged a wolf in combat.
Snatching his rifle, Joe stood ready to do deadly execution once thecombatants separated.
"But only four cartridges," he breathed, "and my call for help not yetsent." His heart sank.