330 THE BED MOUNTAIN OF ALASKA. 
had often protected themselves for a night in the woods 
by a scare- wolf " of the same sort. Fierce and vora- 
cious as is this ugly animal, he shares with the New 
England crow its terror of any novel or unusual contri- 
vance, such as a bit of fluttering ribbon, a trailing string, 
or a bladder bobbing about at the end of a rod. 
Their hungry neighbors howled about the three 
sleepers by the hour that night, aggravated by the smell 
of fresh meat, but kept at a respectful distance. 
Early in the morning, the hunters were on the move 
again, after a hasty breakfast from their original supply 
of pemmican. During the day they made ten miles, up- 
hill, over rough country. Each of them carried upwards 
of eighty pounds of meat, in addition to his rifle and 
ammunition. They camped that night within five miles 
of the huts. 
Soon after midnight, snow began to fall, and, by the 
time they could see to walk, the storm was raging furi- 
ously, doubling the labor and the dangers of the journey. 
Once or twice they heard the distant howl of a wolf, but 
were unmolested until within half a mile of camp. 
" Here they come — the same pack o' varmints that 
carried off the meat," cried Solomon, as a dozen great 
doggish forms came pouring over a high bank just ahead. 
" They've been hanging raound here ever sence, I 'low." 
The wolves fairly filled the bed of the brook in front, 
and showed no disposition to yield at the approach of the 
men. 
