The Last of the Plainsmen 



into mad ravings the moment he felt the touch of 

 Jones s hands, and writhing, frothing, he snapped 

 Jones s sleeve. Rea jerked him loose and held him 

 in the air with one arm, while with the other he 

 swung the bowie. They hauled the dead dogs out 

 on the snow, and returning to the fire sat down to 

 await the cry they expected. 



Presently, as darkness fastened down tight, it 

 came the same cry, wild, haunting, mourning. But 

 for hours it was not repeated. 



&quot;Better rest some,&quot; said Rea; &quot;I ll call you if 

 they come.&quot; 



Jones dropped to sleep as he touched his blankets. 

 Morning dawned for him, to find the great, dark, 

 shadowy figure of the giant nodding over the fire. 



&quot;How s this? Why didn t you call me?&quot; 

 demanded Jones. 



&quot; The wolves only fought a little over the dead 

 dogs.&quot; 



On the instant Jones saw a wolf skulking up the 

 bank. Throwing up his rifle, which he had carried 

 out of the tepee, he took a snap-shot at the beast. 

 It ran off on three legs, to go out of sight over the 

 bank. Jones scrambled up the steep, slippery place, 

 and upon arriving at the ridge, which took several 

 moments of hard work, he looked everywhere for 

 the wolf. In a moment he saw the animal, standing 



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