Informal Chapters on Painters, Vaudeville, and Poets | Page 2

cooking during the operations I have described. Dick Buntin, who
generally performed the office of cook, had concocted a pot of coffee,
having first roasted the berries in the lid of our saucepan, and then,
wrapping them in a piece of deer-skin, had pounded them on a log with
the head of a hatchet. Dick was about to serve out the smoking-hot

coffee when Charley's exclamation made him stop to reply while he
held the pot in his hand.
"I am sure I did hear a strange sound, and it was no owl's hoot, of that I
am convinced," said Charley, still standing up, and peering out over the
dark prairie. "Just keep silence for a few minutes, and you'll hear it too
before long."
I listened, and almost directly afterwards a low mournful wail, wafted
on the breeze, struck my ear. Dick and Story also acknowledged that
they heard the sound.
"I knew I was not mistaken," said Charley; "what can it be?"
"An owl, or some other night-bird, as I at first thought," said Buntin.
"Come, hand me your mugs, or I shall have to boil up the coffee again."
Charley resumed his seat, and we continued the pleasant occupation in
which we were engaged. Supper over, we crept into our sleeping-places,
leaving our fire blazing, not having considered it necessary as yet to
keep watch at night.
We were generally, directly after we had stretched ourselves on the
ground, fast asleep, for we rose at break of day, and sometimes even
before it; but ere I had closed my eyes, I again heard, apparently
coming from far off, the same sound which had attracted Charley's
notice. It appeared to me more like the howl of a wolf than the cry of a
night-bird, but I was too sleepy to pay any attention to it.
How long I had been in a state of unconsciousness I could not tell,
when I was aroused by a chorus of howls and yelps, and, starting up, I
saw a number of animals with glaring eyes almost in our very midst.
"Wolves, wolves!" I cried, calling to my companions at the top of my
voice.
Before I could draw my rifle out of the hut, where I had placed it by my
side, one of the brutes had seized on a large piece of venison,

suspended at the end of a stick to keep it off the ground, and had darted
off with it, while the depredators were searching round for other
articles into which they could fix their fangs.
Our appearance greatly disconcerted them, as we shouted in chorus,
and turning tail they began to decamp as fast as their legs would carry
them.
"Bring down that fellow with the venison," I cried out.
Charley, who had been most on the alert, had his rifle ready, and, firing,
brought down the thief. Another of the pack instantly seized the meat
and made off with it in spite of the shouts we sent after him. The
wolves lost three of their number, but the rest got off with the venison
in triumph. It was a lesson to us to keep a watch at night, and more
carefully to secure our venison. We had, however, a portion remaining
to serve us for breakfast next morning.
We took good care not to let the wolves get into our camp again, but
we heard the brutes howling around and quarrelling over the carcase of
one of their companions, who had been shot but had not immediately
dropped. Having driven off our unwelcome visitors, Charley and I went
in search of our horses, as we were afraid they might have been
attacked. They were, however, well able to take care of themselves and
had made their way to the border of the stream, where we found them
safe.
In the meantime Buntin and Story dragged the carcases of the wolves
we had killed to a distance from the camp, as their skins were not worth
preserving. We all then met round the camp fire, but we soon found
that to sleep was impossible, for the wolves, having despatched their
wounded companions, came back to feast on the others we had shot.
We might have killed numbers while so employed, but that would have
only detained them longer in our neighbourhood, and we hoped when
they had picked the bones of their friends that they would go away and
leave us in peace.
We all wished to be off as soon as possible, so while it was still dark

we caught and watered our horses; and, having cast off their hobbles
and loaded the pack animals, we were in the saddle by sunrise. We rode
on for several hours, and then encamped for breakfast, allowing our
horses to graze while