Once or twice one would
catch the butt of the gun in his teeth, and the marks are in the wood to
this day.
"Well, I was so busy fighting off the wolves that I had no time to notice
how near we were to camp. But suddenly my heart gave a great leap as I
heard a yell in front of me and recognized the voice of my partner.
"I looked ahead and saw that I had almost reached our shack. My partner
was standing in the doorway, rifle in hand, and even as I looked came
running out toward me. In a few seconds the faithful horse had carried me
almost to the shack, and I leaped to the ground. My partner took up a
stand alongside me, and as the wolves came on we cleared a space about us
with the clubbed rifles. We realized we couldn't keep that up long,
though, so we retreated to the cabin. We backed in, but were unable to
shut the door before one big gray brute squeezed inside. He was nothing
dismayed at being separated from his companions, but leaped straight for
us. I fetched him a stunning blow with the butt of my rifle, and before
he could recover we both fell upon him and despatched him with our
hunting knives.
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