"Now, wait until I have reloaded, and then you do as well," remarked the calm Bob, who had learned many valuable lessons from older hunters; and he knew how dangerous it would be for them to be caught with empty guns, should their foes attempt to rush the shelter in a body. Sandy, nothing loth, picked out his victim, and when his brother gave the word he pressed the trigger with more or less delight. "That is one the less, I reckon," he remarked, as he quickly dropped the butt of the musket on the frozen ground, and commenced to handle his powder horn, to measure out sufficient of the precious black grains for another charge. "But I fear that for every beast we drop two new ones come out of the woods," said Bob, believing that they should understand the worst, and not deceive themselves with false hopes. Sandy was for keeping up the fusillade, but his wiser brother had already recognized the folly of wasting their scanty ammunition so hastily. "How many more bullets have you in your pouch?" he asked, quietly. "Just three," replied the other, his enthusiasm checked. "And I have only four," Bob went on; "so you see at the most we can only account for seven of the beasts. After that it would be hand to hand. We must hold off as long as we can, reserving our ammunition for a desperate extremity." "How long will it be before dawn comes?" asked Sandy, anxiously. Of watches or clocks the pioneers had none; but most boys knew how to tell time from the stars, or from mere instinct; just as one accustomed to arousing at a certain hour realizes that the time has come, although all may be darkness about him. Bob scanned the dull heavens through the branches of the trees. And as it happened there came a little break in the clouds just then, through which he caught a glimpse of the moon. "I think that it will only be an hour now before daylight comes," he said with a sense of satisfaction in his voice; "and, besides, the storm is at an end, for there the moon shows through the clouds." "But the wolves are creeping closer all the time," declared Sandy, as he looked over the barrier. "Just see, there must be an awful heap of the critters, Bob. Do you think they will try to climb over here?" "It may be," replied the other, "but so long as we can wield our guns they shall not get a footing inside our fort. Shoot only as a last resort. And if the very worst comes--" "Yes, what then, Bob?" "Try to climb up to the topmost root above. Perhaps we might manage to hold out until daylight frightens them away. But here they come, Sandy!" In another minute the two boys were striking at the heads of such daring animals as ventured to show above the top of the low rampart. The heavy muskets were fair weapons of offence for such work; though more than once Bob warned his impulsive brother to be careful, lest he strike a log and break his gun, which would be a serious catastrophe, indeed.