Chapter XIII: Treed

Slim Tyler and his companions ran as they had never run before to the trees that offered their only chance of safety. How slim that chance was, no one knew better than themselves.

Had their path been through the deep snow, they could never have made it. But the constant going to and fro of the pack had trodded down the snow and made the running easier.

By this time, the temporary panic into which the beasts had been thrown by the sudden sortie from the cabin had spent its force. The wolves began to realize that their enemies were no longer advancing to the attack, but were themselves racing for their lives.

With gleaming eyes and howls of fury, the brutes turned and rushed in the direction of the fugitives.

The latter had by this time reached their respective trees, and were shinning up them with an agility born of desperation.

Up they went like monkeys, spurred on by the certainty that if they slipped and fell they would be torn to pieces in an instant.

Slim's long legs and arms helped him most, and he was the first to find himself out of reach of the ravening jaws below. He clambered into the crotch of a limb and sat there panting.

Dick had been almost as quick. Jerry, however, was a fraction of a second slower, and that almost proved his undoing.

Two wolves leaped at him at the same time. The jaws of either one of them would certainly have clamped upon a foot that was within easy reach. But the two collided in mid-air and tumbled snarling to the ground. Before they could renew the attempt Jerry had caught at a lower limb and swung himself to safety.

For a few minutes none of the three young men spoke a word. They could not, if they had tried to. That frightful race for life, when every particle of nerve and muscle had been taxed to the utmost, had left them utterly exhausted.

It was Dick Mylert who at last broke the silence.

"I take off my hat to you, Slim," he said. "That plan of yours was the only possible one, and it worked. You've got a head on your shoulders, old scout."

"Nothing else but," affirmed Jerry. "That brain of Slim's is always on the job."

"We're not out of the woods yet," said Slim. "These fellows have got us treed, and there's no telling how long they'll keep us here."

"Lucky they can't climb," observed Jerry. "If they were bears or panthers now, they'd have us just where they wanted us. We'd be easy meat."

"I think it's about time our rifles got busy," remarked Slim, as he unslung his weapon. "Get yours ready, fellows, and when I give the word we'll let them have a volley."

"Good idea," approved Jerry, as he got his rifle in position. "At such short range it won't be possible to miss. But let's each pick out a separate one. We don't want to waste any ammunition."

At Slim's signal the three rifles cracked simultaneously. Each bullet found its target. Two of the wolves fell dead, and the third rolled over, mortally wounded.

"Once more before they scatter!" cried Slim, and again the rifles spoke, each claiming a victim.

It was too much for the pack. The survivors broke and ran for cover. How far they went the occupants of the trees did not know. They might be lurking in the vicinity or have gone for good.

"Guess that will hold them for a while!" exclaimed Jerry, with a sigh of relief as he settled back in the crotch of the limb. "They don't even stay to eat their dead comrades. They're beating it while the going's good."

"Likely enough," assented Slim. "Still, we'd better not bank on that too heavily. We'll wait a while and see what happens."

The cabin by this time was a mass of flames. The young men contemplated it with a shudder. It might have been their funeral pyre!

"It's serving one useful purpose, anyway," remarked Dick. "It's keeping us warm. We'd be freezing to death in these trees if it weren't for that."

In a little while the darkness began to lift. A pearly gray streaked the heavens in the east, growing brighter and brighter, until at last the sun peeped over the horizon and shot its slanting rays through the forest.

With the light came an upspringing of the young voyagers' spirits. The night of horror was over. Death had reached for them but had not quite clutched them. Now the day was here and their hearts exulted.

"How about it?" asked Dick. "I'm mighty grateful to this old tree, but I don't care for it as a permanent home."

"Same here," chimed in Jerry. "And maybe I'm not hungry."

The youths slid down from the trees. Now, if ever, would be the time for their enemies to show themselves. But no untoward sight or sound came from the surrounding forest. The wolves had gone!

Still exercising caution, the young adventurers made their way toward the plane.

"Gee!" exclaimed Jerry, as a thought struck him, "suppose the wolves have looted the food supplies in the plane."

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Dick fervently. "Still, it's possible. There was nothing to prevent them."

Apprehension quickened their steps, until finally they were running at full speed in the direction of the plane. If any such disaster had happened, it would mean a torturing delay in their search for Dave Boyd and his party. They would have to return to civilization, stock up, and start off again. The thought was intolerable.

Slim Tyler reached the plane first and jumped aboard. A glance sufficed.

"Glory hallelujah!" he cried. "Nothing touched! Everything all right!"

"Bully!" jubilated Jerry. "Break out that grub. Here's one wolf that's going to get busy. And how!"