The
foremost of the pack rolled over and over; the rest gathered around
and tore their leader in pieces.
By the time they resumed the chase, Allan was a hundred yards ahead
with his rifle loaded. He determined to make a running fight of it to
the hill, where he was sure of meeting his father, or could take to a
tree and shoot until help came. This had hardly flashed through his
brain when, right ahead of him, a detachment of the pack sprang into
the road and answered with double yells the cries of the rest coming
up behind. The horse wheeled suddenly, almost unseating Allan, and
dashed across the clearing toward the wood; but he had not taken a
dozen bounds when a wolf sprang upon him. Old Bob reared and fell,
pitching Allan nearly twenty feet ahead, and was covered with wolves
before he could regain his footing. That was the last of poor old Bob.
[Illustration: "OLD BOB FELL, PITCHING ALLAN AHEAD."]
But Allan! What of him? When he recovered from the effects of the
shock, he found himself over head and ears in snow.
Pages:
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31