There was little fuel left, and it was necessary, therefore, to be doubly vigilant. The night was one of deep darkness, without moon or stars, and nothing could be seen, even at a short distance, except towards the lake, where a shimmer of dubious light rested on the waters. Keen ears and eyes were on the alert, but no sight or sound of wolf rewarded their watchfulness. The Kalkas said the wolves were simply waiting until all was silent in the camp to make another dash at the horses. For a long time, however, no movement was made, when two of the horses grew uneasy, tugging at the thongs and snorting loudly. At the same time, the clouds cleared from the sky, and the stars peering forth threw more light upon the lake. Howling was heard in the distance, and Tchuck-a-bir declared that another pack of wolves was approaching. As they drew near, the former pack, still lurking in the shades, began to growl, and it seemed possible that a combined attack would be delivered. In order to renew the fire, four of the men, two being armed, crept along the margin of the lake, returning in about ten minutes, each with an armful of fuel. The embers were stirred into life, and the brushwood placed ready to be blown into a flame when wanted. Suddenly a great tumult arose; the other wolves had come on the scene, and the echoes rang with a medley of discordant sounds. Again the watchers waited; and after their patience had been tested for half an hour, the horses began to pull and plunge in frenzied terror. The bushes were lighted, and by their blaze Mr. Atkinson saw a group of eight to ten wolves within fifteen paces. He fired both barrels at them; his men also fired; and the herd, with a frightful howl, ignominiously fled. At daylight Mr. Atkinson examined the scene of action, and found the carcases of eight wolves. With their skins as trophies, he returned to Darma Tsyren’s aul. * * * * *