His hope was that the flash and report of the weapon would frighten
the animals into opening a path for a moment, through which the
skaters could dart into the clear space below.
Having started, Monteith did not glance behind him. Fred and his
sister must look out for themselves. He had his hands more than full.
With a swift, sweeping curve he shot toward the bank, the brutes
immediately converging to head him off. The slight, familiar scraping
on the ice told him that Fred and Jennie were at his heels. He kept on
with slackening speed until close to the shore, and it would not do to
go any further. An overhanging limb brushed his face.
But his eye was on the wolves further out in the stream. The place was
one of the few ones where the course was such that no shadow was along
either bank. The moment most of the creatures were drawn well over
toward the right shore, Sterry did as his friends did awhile before,
skimming abruptly to the left and almost back over his own trail, and
then darting around the pack. The line was that of a semicircle, whose
extreme rim on the left was several rods beyond the last of the wolves
swarming to the right.
"Now!" called Sterry at the moment of turning with all the speed at
his command.
Critical as was the moment, he flung one glance behind him. Fred and
Jennie were almost nigh enough to touch him with outstretched hand. No
need of shouting any commands to them, for they understood what he was
doing, or rather trying to do.
Young Sterry, as I have said, had cleared the horde of wolves, making
the turn so quickly that they slid a rod or more over the ice before
able to check themselves and change their own course.
The stratagem seemed as successful as the other, but it was too soon
to congratulate themselves. At the moment when everything promised
well, the most enormous wolf he had ever seen bounded from under the
trees on the left bank and galloped directly for him.
He was so far in advance that the only way of dodging him was by
another sharp turn in his course. To do this, however, would bring him
so near the other brutes that they were almost certain to leap upon
every one of the party.
"Use your revolver!" called Fred from the rear.
Monteith had already decided that this was an exigency demanding one
of the remaining charges, and he partly raised the weapon in front of
him.
Meanwhile, the huge wolf had stopped on seeing that the procession was
coming in a straight line for him. The youth moderated his speed still
more, that he might perfect his aim.
He was in the act of levelling his pistol, when the animal advanced
quickly a couple of steps and made a tremendous leap at his throat.
The act was unexpected, but at the instant of his leaving the ice
Monteith let fly with one chamber at him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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