Somehow Billie felt better after all that heroic talk. It does brace one up to exhibit such defiance, say what you will about it. He no longer lay there on his blanket, but was on his feet. The first thing he did proved that Billie was getting on, and no longer the greenhorn he had been; for he made sure to secure the canteen; in case Jupiter took it into his head to run away, he would not carry off this priceless article with him. That proved to be one of the smartest things the boy had ever done in all his life, and showed how he was waking up these days, under the new conditions which surrounded him, making him think for himself. For the terrified pony did presently jerk loose, and go galloping away, much to the chagrin of his owner. However, there was no time now for crying over spilt milk, as Billie told himself. The approaching wolves were very close, and would soon be upon him. Billie tried to figure out whether the cowardly creatures would attack him immediately; or after their customary manner, hang about in a circle at an ever decreasing distance, waiting for him to be overpowered by sleep. “Looks like I’m up against it,” he said aloud; “and let’s see how a Winkle can pull through. There’s lots of ’em been soldiers, and never yet did one turn out to be a _coward_; and I ain’t meaning to be the first, hear that?” Whether he was addressing the wind, or the nearby wolves, Billie did not say; but his defiance was meant all the same. He tried to penetrate the darkness so that he might see some object at which he could fire, for he wanted to make every bullet count, if possible. There was no telling how many of the wolves and coyotes there might be. If he kept on shooting them down, and more continued to arrive, the dreadful moment must come when he would run out of ammunition. What then? The programme ceased to interest Billie after that stage. True, he would still have his trusty hunting-knife, and that possessed a keen edge on both sides; but what a puny weapon it must always be in the hands of one unaccustomed to wielding a blade like that, and with an unnumbered throng of four-footed adversaries leaping about him. Now the howls were along a different order. Billie fancied that he could trace exultation among other things in the last series; just as though the wolves began to feel sure of their supper, and rejoiced accordingly. Many a time had Billie himself shouted with glee because of that call to the spread; and now he was experiencing how it felt to be on the other side of the fence, with these hungry wolves springing to the feast. Well, first he would at least have some satisfaction in knocking over a few of his lupine enemies—he believed that was what they were called in books he had read concerning their characteristics.