Mighty hungry, too. They've smelled our buffalo meat and they
want it. Guess from their big voices that they're timber wolves and not
coyotes."
Ned knew that the timber wolf was a much larger and fiercer animal than
his prairie brother, and he did not altogether like this whining sound
which now rose and died for the third time.
"Must be a dozen or so," said the Panther, noticing the increasing
volume of sound. "We'll light the fire again. Nothing is smarter than a
wolf, an' I don't want one of those hulkin' brutes to slip up, seize a
fine piece of buffalo and dash away with it. But fire will hold 'em. How
a wolf does dread it! The little red flame is like a knife in his
heart."
They lighted four small fires, making a rude ring which inclosed their
leafy beds and the buffalo skins and meat. Before they finished the task
they saw slim dusky figures among the trees and red eyes glaring at
them. The Panther picked up a stick blazing like a torch, and made a
sudden rush for one of the figures. There was a howl of terror and a
sound of something rushing madly through the bushes.
The Panther flung his torch as far as he could in the direction of the
sounds and returned, laughing deep in his throat.
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