CHAPTER XVII

  WOLVES ON THE TRAIL

  Stacy Brown was so overcome with his own importance that evening thathe could not unbend sufficiently to talk with his companions, savefor an occasional word with Tad.

  "Stacy has a swelled head," observed Ned Rector.

  "He has a right to have. Can't you let him have the full enjoymentof his bravery?" laughed Tad.

  "Did he really do anything worth while?" asked Ned.

  "I have told you he did."

  "He had a gun, didn't he?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, then, I don't see anything so great about what he did."

  "Then I'll tell you. Had Stacy relaxed his vigilance, or been theleast bit slow or uncertain, that fellow would have shot him, andChunky knew that. If you don't think that took some nerve you don'tknow what nerve is."

  "Oh, yes he does," spoke up Walter. "Ned has a lot of it."

  "Nerve?" grinned Tad.

  "Yes."

  Rector gazed at Tad.

  "Shall I feel all puffed up or get mad at that remark?" questionedNed.

  "That depends upon the way you take it, Ned."

  Stacy sauntered past them at this juncture casting an indifferentglance in Ned's direction, then continued on his journey up and downthe camp.

  Ned said the fat boy reminded him of a pouter pigeon with its tailfeathers pulled out.

  "Do you know what the plans are for tomorrow?" inquired Tad.

  "I think Mr. Lilly intends to go out on the trail again."

  "What kind of trail?" asked Stacy, stopping before them.

  "Oh, you have condescended to speak to me, have you?" demanded Ned.

  "I am not addressing you as Ned Rector. I am addressing you as a partof the Pony Rider outfit," replied Stacy coldly.

  A grin spread slowly across the countenance of Ned Rector. Then helaughed.

  "Chunky," he said, "if I thought you were half as big a fool as youappear to be, I would throw you out of camp."

  "What do you think about it, Tad? Would he?" questioned Stacy.

  "That depends. Do you mean _could_ he?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I will answer 'no.' I don't think any one boy in the campcould put you out if you had made up your mind to stay," replied Tad.

  "There! You have an expert opinion, Mr. Rector. Kindly do not referto the subject again," begged Stacy airily. "I can't afford todiscuss such trivial matters. What kind of trail are we going out on,do you know?"

  "Same old paw-prints--bears," complained Ned.

  "Find any signs today?"

  "Oh, yes, the dogs ran the scent out. The bears took to the water,and we didn't pick up the scent again, for the day was nearly done bythat time. Mr. Lilly decided to come home, especially as he hadn'theard anything of you and Stacy, nor of me. He nearly had a fit whenhe found that you had not been seen or heard from."

  "Didn't he think we could take care of ourselves?" demanded Tad.

  "I told him you could, especially Chunky," with a mischievous glanceat the fat boy. "But for some reason he was considerably upset overyour absence. When we got to the four-blaze tree, I think he beganto understand that you had your head with you."

  "He didn't find the deer signs?" asked Tad.

  "No. He would have done so, I guess, if we hadn't heard you when wedid."

  The guide joined the boys at this juncture. He was smilinggood-naturedly, regarding Tad and Stacy, in both of whom he felt anew interest. They had shown the veteran guide something that daythat he never had seen in lads of their age.

  "Where do we go tomorrow?" questioned Butler.

  "I am going to try to pick up the bear trail again. They gave us theslip beautifully today."

  "Would it not be better to make a new camp farther in?" asked Tad.

  "I had thought of that, but I think we are well enough located rightwhere we are. The bears are likely to round back, for this is theirstamping ground. I have seen several tree-hollows where they havemade their winter quarters."

  "Do the bears live in trees?" cried Walter. "I thought they alwayslived in caves and dens."

  "In some parts of the country they do. There aren't any caves downhere, so they seek out hollows in the trees far above the ground fortheir winter quarters, or else go into a hollow log. In the springthey come down and begin to feed on the ash buds and the tender youngcane, called 'mutton cane.' At this season they are quite likely totake to killing stock on the plantations. Just now they are at theirbest, in weight, in cunning and killing abilities. One of thesebears would as lief tackle a man as a yearling calf."

  "I hope one tackles me. I need something to limber up my muscles. Ihaven't had anything exciting on this trip," declared Stacy Brown.

  "Oh, you will get limbered up all right if you meet one of thosefellows," answered Lilly, fixing his twinkling eyes on the fat boy."They will fix your joints so they will bend one way as easily asanother."

  The plans for the morrow's hunting were explained by Lilly. Thearrangements were to be about the same, the party being split up andstationed at different points in the canebrake. Tad, being consideredthe best woodsman, was to be sent on ahead with Stacy at or about thepoint where the dogs had lost the trail that day. The rest of theparty were to draw in, eventually converging on that point.

  Lilly had an idea that the bears would have returned to their ownground in the night. In that event they would be driven from the caneby the dogs again, in which case one or the other of the party mightget a shot.

  Tad and Stacy were pleased with the arrangement. It sent them offwhere they would be wholly on their own responsibilities.

  "But don't go off on any long hikes as you did today," warned theguide.

  "We shan't unless we have to," answered Tad. "If we get a bear andsomeone steals it, why, we shall have to go after it."

  "Let me know before you do. I reckon I should like to have a part inthat chase," said the guide almost savagely.

  An early start was made on the following morning, Stacy solemn as anowl, the other boys full of laughter and joking, turning most of theirpleasantry on the fat boy.

  "I'll fetch back something for you tonight," threatened Stacy.

  "A bear?" quizzed Ned.

  "If one gets in my way, yes. If I can't do any better I'll fetchhome one of those sweet-voiced owls that you are so fond of."

  "Ugh! Don't you bring one of those horrible things here," protestedWalter.

  Tad and the fat boy rode away ahead of the others. Lilly's face worea grin. He evidently looked for the pair to distinguish themselves,and perhaps he felt reasonably certain that they would fall to thetrail of the bear. At least, he had his own reasons for grinning.

  It was along towards noon, when the two boys had covered about halfthe distance to their destination, that Tad caught the sound of thedogs. The hounds were in full cry, though the cry was faint, showingthat the animals were some distance away. The Pony Rider Boyslistened attentively, trying to get the direction.

  "It seems to me that they are heading towards us," said Tad.

  Stacy agreed with a nod.

  "Suppose we get over there in the cane where we shall not be solikely to be seen. Which way is the breeze?"

  "Blowing that way," answered Chunky, pointing in a direction awayfrom the cane.

  "Then we don't want to go there. The breeze will carry our scent tothe bears if any are between us and the dogs. I think we had betterhaul off to the eastward for half a mile or so. That should put usout of the direct line and yet place us within shooting distance."

  They rode cautiously away, the horses now pricking up their ears, forthe animals heard the yelps of the hounds and perhaps understood itsmeaning. That they were not baying told Tad that the dogs had notyet sighted their quarry. As soon as they got in sight of the bearthey would bay deeply and hoarsely.

  The barking grew louder as the dogs drew nearer, then all at once anew sound was borne to the ears of the Pony Ride
r Boys. It was ashrill yelping.

  Tad looked at Stacy, and Stacy looked at Tad. The latter shook hishead, indicating that he did not understand this new sound.

  "If it weren't for the fact that we knew they were on the trail, Ishould think they were fighting," declared Butler.

  "Why don't you go and find out?"

  Tad reflected over this.

  "I'll do it," he decided. "You follow on down parallel with thetrail, Chunky. You can't miss your way if you will keep just at theedge of this row of cane, which will lead you to the place where wewere to meet the others."

  "No, thank you. Not for mine. I go with you if you go. You aren'tgoing to leave me here all alone in the swamp, not if I know it."

  "What, are you afraid of the bears?" scoffed Tad.

  "No, I am not afraid of any bears that ever walked, but I'm afraid ofthose hideous owls," declared Stacy, glancing apprehensively up intothe tall cypress towering above them.

  "Well, you are a silly! All right; come along then. We shallprobably scare the game away, but something is wrong over yonder."

  Tad took the lead, driving as fast as he could, cutting a new trailwith the confidence of an old hunter in the canebrake.

  They burst out into an open space, open so far as cane was concerned,and gazed in amazement at flying, snarling, yelping heaps of fur.

  "Look at the dogs! Look at the dogs!" cried Chunky. "They'refighting each other."

  Tad's face flushed and his eyes flashed.

  "Chunky, don't you--don't you see what it is?" cried Tad excitedly.

  "'Course I do. It's those confounded dogs fighting when they oughtto be chasing bear."

  "No! The hounds are fighting a band of wolves!" shouted Butler.

  "Wolves?" gasped Stacy.

  "Yes. The wolves have attacked our dogs. They have killed some ofthem. Are you game to tackle them?"

  "I'm game for anything that spells trouble. Whoop! I'm the originalwolf-killer from the plains of Arizona, if that's where they comefrom. Get to them! I'm with you."

  Tad grinned harshly. Putting spurs to his mount he dashed straighttoward the battling dogs and wolves. He had heard that wolvessometimes attacked the hunting dogs right ahead of the huntersthemselves, but he had always considered this to be a hunter's story.Now he saw the verification before his own eyes.

  "Use your revolver and be careful that you don't shoot me," yelledTad.

  _Bang!_

  Stacy had let go almost before the words were out of Tad's mouth--andmissed his mark. Butler rode straight at a snarling, yelping bunch.His bush-knife was in his right hand. Leaning over he made a pass atthe nearest wolf but missed it because the horse jumped at thatsecond, nearly unseating the boy.

  Tad bounded on to the next fighting heap. This time a vicious swingof the bush-knife brought results. He wounded a wolf, sending thebeast slinking away yelping.

  In the meantime Stacy Brown's revolver was popping away, now and thenfanning the body of a wolf with a bullet, but oftener missing thebeast entirely. Still, Stacy was having the time of his life. Hewas yelling and whooping louder than the desperate combatants. Tadwas amazed at the pluck of the attacking force. He never hadsupposed that wolves possessed the courage to attack dogs, especiallyin the presence of human beings. These wolves had not only thecourage to attack the dogs, but they were snarling and snapping atthe legs of the horses, now and then making a leap at Tad when he hadinterfered with their sport.

  It was an exciting battle, the most exciting that the two boys hadever seen. It seemed to them that there must have been a fullhundred of the cowardly beasts in the pack, though in all probabilitythere were not more than half this number, which was an unusuallylarge pack at that.

  "Shoot carefully. Don't waste your ammunition," warned Tad.

  "Whoope-e-e-e!" howled the fat boy, letting go a shot that this timesent a beast limping away, the shot having broken its leg. "Can Ishoot? Well, I guess I can shoot. Y-e-o-w!"

  Tad's horse was getting so frantic at the frequent attacks on itslegs that he could do nothing with it. Moments were precious becausethe dogs were getting the worst of the battle.

  Suddenly Butler leaped from his horse thinking to be able to dogreater execution on the ground. The wolves, perhaps believing thatthis was a signal of surrender, turned snarling upon him. At thisjuncture the horse jerked the check rein from his hand and jumpedaway, leaving the Pony Rider Boy standing there facing a large partof the pack.

  [ILLUSTRATION: Tad Butler Faced the Pack.]

  With the bush-knife in his left hand now, revolver in the right, theboy slashed and shot alternately. Nearly every shot and nearly everypass of the knife reached the body of a wolf, not always killing, butin almost every instance doing the animal no little damage.

  It was likely to be a sad day for the brave dogs, which, the morethey were overwhelmed, the more desperately they fought. Some of thedogs were already dead, or crawling away in their death agonies. Allof the dogs would be killed unless the wolves were swiftly driven off.

  "Chunky," yelled Tad, "can't you use your rifle without hitting thedogs?"

  "I can try," panted the fat boy.

  "Rustle it, then! Don't mind me. I'll try to keep out of the way ofyour bullets."

  Stacy raised his rifle, taking quick aim at a big gray wolf. _Bang!_went the overcharged cartridge, with a noise so like that of a cannonthat Stacy's horse leaped to one side, while the fat boy went in theother direction, landing on his head in the ooze.

  Yelping in their mad joy, a dozen wolves charged upon the momentarilyhelpless Chunky.