Had the season been winter, with the snow deep on the ground, the trouble from the wolves would have been more serious. Those gaunt creatures, when goaded by hunger, become exceedingly daring, and do not hesitate to attack even armed bodies of men; but it was autumn time, when the ravenous brutes, who seem always to be hungry, find the least difficulty in procuring food, and they remained true to their cowardly disposition and refrained from everything in the nature of true courage. The curious fact, as we have remarked, was that, as in the case of the Indian, only a single wolf intruded upon the little company. The animals generally travel in droves, and when one is seen it is quite safe to count upon a dozen, or a score, or even more. It is possible that the victim of Fred Greenwood's Winchester was also a sort of tramp, prospecting for his own benefit. It is more likely, however, that he was what might be considered a scout or advance agent of others. His pack was probably waiting among the foot-hills for him to return with his report. If so, the report is now considerably overdue. Fred was a model sentinel for the remaining hours that he continued on duty. He continued circling about the camp-fire, silent, stealthy, peering here and there, and listening for the first evidence of danger. Nothing of the kind was seen or heard, and he finally came back to the smouldering fire and looked at the face of his watch. Could it be possible? It lacked a few minutes of three o'clock. According to agreement, he should have called Hazletine an hour before. "I don't suppose he will object," said Fred, aloud; "I'm sure I shouldn't, if allowed to sleep an hour beyond my time----" "I ain't doing any kicking, am I?" Looking around, he saw the guide had flung aside his blanket and was sitting erect, with a quizzical expression on his face. "What made you fire your gun 'bout two hours ago?" he asked. "Did you hear me?" "How'd I know if I hadn't heard it?" was the pertinent question. "A wolf was sneaking among the trees. I followed him out to the edge of the timber and let him have it between the eyes." "Did you hurt him?" "Since he flopped over and died, I have reason to believe he _was_ hurt." "Good! That's the style--always to shoot. Never waste your ammunition. You didn't kill any Injins?" "I saw none at all." Hank looked at the unconscious figure of Jack Dudley. "Wonder how it was with him?" "He did not fire his gun at anything." Fred did not wish to tell his friend about that alarming visit earlier in the evening. That was Jack's concern. "But he may have seed something. Howsumever, we can wait till morning. Wal, younker, if you've no 'bjection you can lay down and snooze till morning. I go on duty now."