"The poor boy, as soon as the battle was decided, as he supposed at the cost of his friend's life, started for the village, arriving there late the following afternoon. Upon hearing his story, a party of well-armed men immediately went to the scene of the struggle, to bury their brave comrade. They were guided by the boy, who was able to ride a pony. "Arriving at the spot about midnight, they found Sanchez in a most pitiful condition. His flesh was terribly mangled, his clothes were torn to ribbons, and his back and shoulders were one mass of lacerated wounds, inflicted by the sharp teeth and claws of the wolf. "Although he received the most delicate care and assistance at the hospital from those noble women, the Sisters of Charity, it was many weeks before he was able to resume his occupation of hunting. Even then he owed his life to his wonderful recuperative powers and his iron constitution." "What a terrible time he must have had," said Kate. "The gray wolf is an awful animal to be attacked by. Do you know that they very frequently go mad, and then many savages are bitten, and die a horrible death from hydrophobia? One of the warriors was bitten while I was down in the Indian village. He had a hand-to-hand tussle with the wolf, and although he was only slightly bitten, he died raving." "Yes, they are bad brutes to deal with," said the old trapper, "particularly those huge fellows that hunt in packs; a man has not the slightest chance with them. I know that in Oregon, about twelve years ago, the mail rider for the military posts of Forts Dallas and Simcoe was caught in the mountains by a pack of them, and nothing of him or his animal was found excepting the letter sack, the hoofs of his horse, and some buttons, with other portions of the rider's clothing." "Have you ever had a personal encounter with any of the terrible beasts?" inquired Mrs. Thompson. "Oh, yes!" replied the old man. "I'll tell you all about it." "In 1856, I tried to ranche it in the central portion of Washington Territory. I had no neighbor nearer than thirty miles. I was a little lonesome at first, because it was really the first time I had been without partners, and I saw my neighbors but once in a whole year. "I remember that I started to visit John Elliott. I felt that I needed company, and he and I had trapped together some years before, and were well acquainted. "Towards evening, I started for my thirty-mile walk. It was in December, and of course, cool, with a magnificent full moon to light my trail through the deep forest and over the prairie.