"Might as well give it up, Dave, onless ye want to ride around all night," said Barringford at last. He had hardly spoken when Dave drew up his horse. "Hark, Sam! what is that?" The old frontiersman listened attentively for several minutes. "Wolves, onless I miss my guess," he replied presently. "They appear to be heading toward us." "No, they are off in that direction, Dave." Barringford pointed with his hand. "They are after something." "Not our buffalo meat, I hope." "No, they are heading the other way. It's something else." "Let us follow. They may be after another buffalo, or after Henry." "That is so." On they went once more. Soon they could no longer hear the wolves, and drew up in perplexity. While they were consulting together, they heard a distant gun shot. "Somebuddy is a-firin' on 'em!" ejaculated Barringford. "Perhaps it's Henry. Come!" And he set off at a gallop, with Dave beside him. As they rode on they heard another gun shot, and a moment later the report of a pistol. "It must be Henry, and, if so, he is having a fearful fight with the wolves!" cried Dave. "Oh, Sam, we must help him!" "I see him!" shouted Barringford, and in less than half a minute later he was blazing away at the wolves. Dave also fired his gun and his pistol, and four wolves were put out of the fight in almost the time it takes to tell of the deed. "Save me!" came faintly from Henry. "Save me!" "I will!" answered Barringford, and leaped from his horse, hunting-knife in hand. The blade was plunged deeply into a wolf that had Henry by the left arm. Dave used his musket as a club, and another of the beasts was sent staggering back with a broken jaw. What few remained of the beasts were scared by the new arrivals, and now they made off at top speed. It was high time, for Henry had suffered much, and as soon as the living wolves had disappeared he plunged forward and fainted in Barringford's arms. "He has had a lough time of it, poor fellow," murmured the old frontiersman. "If we hadn't 'a' come up as we did, he would have been done for." "Is he seriously hurt?" questioned Dave anxiously. "Don't think he is, Dave. It's his wind as has given out." Barringford was right, and it was not long before Henry revived. His arm was slightly pierced in three places and on his left leg were two long, irregular scratches. These were washed and bound up by Dave, and during the time consumed Barringford managed to start up a tiny fire in spite of the dampness. "Where in the world have you been?" asked Henry. "I watched and watched for you." "And we've been hunting for you until we were about ready to give it up," answered his cousin. "The wolves put us on the track." Sitting around the fire, which Barringford coaxed into a respectable blaze, each party told what had happened since the separation.