The hour was late, when Pizen Jane gave a convulsive leap, and threw her arms around the scout’s body, with a quick motion. “Did ye hear that?” she asked breathless. The scout drew rein. “I heard nothing,” said he. “What did you----” “There it is ag’in! Wolves, as I’m a mortal sinner! And they’re answering each other, I’ll be bound. Jes’ listen at ’em!” The scout could not fail to hear them now, for their howls swept out in a wild chorus. “Wolves?” she said. “Yes.” “Comin’ this way?” “I don’t know, I’m sure.” She observed that in spite of his careless reply he touched up the horse with the spur. The wolves were in two bands, apparently; one band on the mountainside, off on the left, and the other behind, in the trail, or in the river cañon. Those on the hillside were nearest, and their howls soon became frightful. “Chasin’ us?” she asked. “We’ll hope not.” “Well, I know they aire! Ye can’t fool me. I’ve had experience. This ain’t the fust time I’ve heerd ’em.” She put her hand into her bosom and drew out a revolver. “This ain’t big enough to kill many wolves with,” she remarked; “but it’s big enough to kill me, which it’ll do if the wolves should seem about to git me. I’d ruther die by a bullet than to have them critters tear me into giblets. Ugh! Hear ’em yellin’!” It was not a pleasant sound, and again the scout touched the horse up with the spur. The country lay more open before him, a fact of which he was glad. The moonlight and open country lessened the danger from the wolves; for, like all evil creatures, they loved the darkness rather than the light. The horse was now flying along, oblivious of its double burden. It not only heard the wolves, but had scented them, and was frightened. The howling drew nearer, and soon the wolves, sweeping down from the hills, were seen running along the trail just behind the fugitives, and off on the left, beyond revolver shot. They grew constantly bolder and bolder, so that soon they were close upon the horse. They seemed to recognize the helplessness of the fugitives, pitted against so many; for the wolf gains courage from numbers, and is boldest when in big packs. Soon the wolves became so reckless that they dashed into the trail, partly surrounding the horse. Then they began to leap at its nose, and sought to strike their teeth into its legs for the purpose of hamstringing it, after the manner in which they were accustomed to bring down deer and other game. The scout shot one that sprang at the horse’s head; and then dropped another that had leaped to the horse’s haunches. “Downed ’em, ye did!” cried Pizen Jane. “Good for you! It makes me ’most love ye, Buffler, to see you drop ’em like that.” He made no answer save a grunt of wrath. “Buffler,” Pizen Jane cackled, “I know you’re enj’yin’ my society, even if the wolves is chasin’ us!” “I should feel better if you were not here,” he answered, quite frankly. “Why, Buffler?” “Because of the wolves. You have no need to ask.”