“All right,” assented Paul, “and then we’ll each have our own traps to look after. It’s going to be great sport, Dan.” “’T will be fine t’ blaze trees high up where you sets traps, t’ mark th’ traps,” cautioned Dan. “When you gets through now, don’t be waitin’ for me. I’ll make back t’ th’ cabin.” Accordingly they parted. Dan, turning to the right, disappeared, and Paul, passing up the valley, was presently deeply engrossed in his work. Once he fancied he heard something behind him, but there was nothing to be seen when he turned to look, and concluding he had imagined it he dismissed it from his mind and continued his work. His last trap was set late in the afternoon, and, very hungry, he turned toward the cabin. A little way down the trail he again had the sensation that some creature was stealthily following him, but still there was nothing visible. This feeling clung to him now, and presently made him so nervous that he increased his pace to a trot. He was still a full mile from the cabin when, again glancing behind, he discovered two great, skulking animals a hundred yards in his rear. “Husky dogs!” he said aloud, and felt momentary relief from his anxiety. Then like a flash he realized that they were not dogs at all, but big, savage gray wolves. A cold chill ran up Paul’s back. He had no arms save his axe. The wolves had stopped. They were sitting upon their haunches, eyeing him hungrily. CHAPTER XIX ON THE FUR TRAILS Paul and the wolves watched each other for a full minute. When Paul’s first terror left him somewhat, and when he remembered what Dan had so often said: “They ain’t no beast to be skeered of in this country,” and again: “Wolves is big cowards unless they’s in packs,” he regained his self composure somewhat. Here were two, to be sure, but two could hardly be designated as a pack. He also remembered that he had heard that a loud scream would sometimes frighten savage animals, and gathering his energies for it, he took a step toward the wolves, at the same instant opening his lungs in one wild, vociferous yell. The wolves, however, were not to be frightened so easily. They sat with their tongues lolling, and if an animal’s countenance can display amused wonder, theirs certainly did. Paul, with a renewal of his fear, resumed his trail home. He wished to run, but Amesbury had told a story of having been followed by three or four once, when he was unarmed, and had stated that the fact that he had not increased his pace, and had given the animals no evidence of fear, had prevented them from attacking him. “An animal knows when you’re frightened,” explained Amesbury. “Let him feel that you’re in fear of him, and he’ll attack. If you’re ever followed, keep an even, unhurried gait, and they’ll be shy of you. But start to run and the beast will do the same, and overtake you every time.”