"I think I'd better; there is no knowing where you will be when you find that wounded deer! But don't stay out all night!"

With this sally John started homeward, and Ree resumed his search for blood-stains in the snow which would show him the trail he sought. Going about among the rocks he discovered an opening about half the size of a door which seemed to lead straight back into a rocky cliff.

"Some sort of a cave," he mused, inspecting it more closely and looking into it. He saw nothing, and, stooping down, ventured in a little way.

His eyes accustomed to the bright light of the snow, he was unable to see anything in the darkness, or he might not have been so bold; for the next moment a chorus of fierce growls caused him to retreat.

"Bears, or wolves--bears, most likely," said Ree to himself. "At least if they are wolves there should be tracks about the mouth of the cave. I must remember this place."

Having first looked about to make sure of the exact location of the cavern, and resolving to explore it at some future time, the youthful hunter hurried on. Under a clump of low pines he presently discovered a herd of seven deer. One lagged behind, as they fled at his approach, and Ree knew at once that it must be the wounded animal. He followed at the best pace possible, but the deer was soon lost sight of, though the poor thing had a difficult time of it to make any progress through the crusted snow.

However, Ree kept to the trail for he was sure the doe could not go far; yet hour after hour pa.s.sed and he saw no hope of accomplishing his purpose. Had it not been that the deer was traversing a circle, the trail now taking him in the direction of the cabin, he would have been obliged to give up the pursuit. But now he pa.s.sed through the ravine where the deer had been wounded and up a steep slope towards home. By this time the sun was going down, and from not far ahead of him Ree heard the howling of wolves. If he could have looked but a little way into the future, he would have taken the shortest route to the cabin.

However, wolves had never given much trouble and Ree had no thought of being afraid, though the howling sounded nearer and nearer as he continued on. Soon, however, he guessed what had happened. The wounded deer, unable to escape, had been killed by the fierce dogs of the wilderness which were now devouring it. And in another minute the boy saw them at their awful feast. With anger and foolhardy courage he sprang directly among the struggling beasts, clubbing them with his rifle.

Mad with starvation and the taste of fresh blood, one big wolf leaped toward the courageous boy and others followed. He was barely able to hold them at bay while he backed away toward a tree, swinging his rifle right and left with desperate energy as he went. Closer and closer still the wolves pressed him, snapping, snarling, howling--their long sharp teeth and red throats being so near that he could almost feel their hot breath on his face. But he reached the tree--a beech, one of whose lower limbs was almost within reach. He leaped upward to seize it, but as he did so his rifle caught on a bush and was jerked from his hand. A great gray foamy-jawed creature snapped closely at his heels and by a hair's breadth he escaped, as he drew himself quickly upward.

Howling like enraged demons the wolves gathered about the tree. They seemed to know that sooner or later they would drink human blood. Ree thought of this. His only weapon was the knife Capt. Bowen had given him, which he always carried. But his active brain was busy and he determined to take a desperate chance in an effort to secure his rifle.

CHAPTER XV.

A Maple Sugar Camp in the Wilderness.

Selecting a stout limb for his purpose, Ree set to work to cut and trim it, making a short, heavy club. He believed that if he should jump suddenly down among the wolves, their surprise would be so great as to keep them away for perhaps a second--long enough to permit him to seize his rifle, and again fight his way into the tree. As he trimmed the thick branch, however, an increasing danger presented itself. The unusual howling of the pack and the scent of blood were attracting other wolves to the spot. Before his club was ready, he had counted seven newcomers galloping through the snow to join their blood-thirsty brothers.

To put his life in peril by jumping down among so many of the fierce creatures was to run a greater risk than Ree thought wise; but his fertile brain presented a new plan. He partially split one end of his club and securely bound the handle of the knife in the opening thus made, with strips of buckskin cut from his clothing. In this way he made a strong but c.u.mbersome spear, and holding to the lowest branch of the tree, he leaned far down and stabbed and slashed at every wolf within reach.

Several were wounded and their yelps of pain and rage were added to the hideous, hungry cries of the others. Again and again the bold boy cut and thrust as the wolves kept coming within his reach. The snow was dyed with blood. For half an hour the battle was carried on.

At last by a lucky stroke Ree gave one of the howling ma.s.s beneath him so deep a cut across the neck, that it sprang but a few yards away and fell dead, its head half cut off. At once the others pounced upon the wolf's body, tearing it to pieces, scrambling and fighting in a most horrible manner.

Now was Ree's chance. He leaped quickly to the ground and seized his blood-stained rifle; in another moment he would have been safe. But he was so chilled--so stiff from the cold, that he missed his hold when first he sprang to catch the lowest branch, and before he could try again, a monstrous gray wolf dashed toward him. With a hungry howl, its jaws dripping blood, it launched itself through the air, straight for Ree's throat.

With wonderful nerve the boy stood his ground. He did not falter, nor hesitate. He met the hot-mouthed, vicious brute, his rude spear clasped in both hands, and drove the blade deep in its s.h.a.ggy shoulder. With an almost human shriek and ferocity the wolf sprang sidewise under the impulse of the steel's sharp thrust, and the spear quivering in its flesh, was jerked from the boys' hands.

Ree's first impulse was to run in pursuit, as the wolf dashed into the woods, to recover his knife; but in an instant the whole pack was upon him again, having made short work of their cannibal-like feast, and only by the greatest dexterity was he able again to seize his rifle and climb to safety, ere they reached him.

"Now some of you will smart!" the half-frozen boy exclaimed, and he clenched his teeth in righteous anger. Shot after shot he poured into the blood-thirsty brutes, and watched with horror as those remaining alive pounced upon the dying ones. Four wolves he killed and two he wounded, then sat still awhile to catch his breath and scrutinize the dozen animals remaining, to see whether the one in whose body his knife had been carried off, was there. He did not see it, though the twilight gloom was now dispelled by bright moonlight. So, soon he resumed the terrible execution he had wrought among the pack, and was firing as fast as he could load, when he heard John's familiar whistle.

"Watch out, John! There are still eight of the fiercest wolves you ever saw here!" he called in warning, but almost simultaneously his chum's rifle sounded, and but seven wolves remained. Another and another went down to death and the five which were left, taking fright at last, sped away among the timber, howling dismally.

"You had me scared into fits, almost," John cried, as Ree climbed down.

"Why, how cold you are!" he exclaimed, grasping his friend's hand. "And your teeth are chattering! How did it happen any way? Come along home!"

"I'll tell you about it; but we'd better skin the wolves that have not been half eaten, first. b.l.o.o.d.y as a battle field, isn't it?"

"Skin nothing! Come along! It is most terribly cold and you are half frozen. We can get the skins in the morning if there is any thing left of them."

For once Ree yielded and when he had recovered his snow-shoes John marched him off at a pace which soon put his blood in circulation.

If ever the young pioneers appreciated the rude comforts of their cabin, they did that night. It was sweet to feel snug and warm and safe, as Ree told the story of his adventure more fully than at first; to stretch their weary legs toward the crackling fire and lean back in the fur covered seat they had constructed. It was pleasant to eat a lunch of nuts secured from the Indians, and venison steaks cut thin and broiled crisp.

It was comfortable to creep into bed and lie awake and talk of their plans; of their friends in far away Connecticut; of incidents of their trip; of the strange absence of Tom Fish; of the sad story of Arthur Bridges--of many, many things.

And it was pleasant to watch with half closed eyes, the firelight dancing on the rough cabin walls, shining in the little looking gla.s.s near the door, showing the rifles within easy reach in the corner near the bed; the two sets of pistols in their hostlers on the table they had made; the gleaming blades of their axes, beside the fire-place; the books Ree loved so well, arranged on a board from the old cart, which did duty as a mantel, and John's fife beside them; the frying-pan and their few dishes on and in a little cupboard in the corner. It was sweet, too, to fall asleep at last and dream of the present, past and future--enjoying the perfect rest which the fatigue of honest, hard work by those possessed of honest hearts must ever bring.

The boys were very tired this night, partly from the unusual exercise of walking so far on snow-shoes, no doubt. But they slept soundly and were early awake. Directly after breakfast they visited the scene of the fight with the wolves. They little expected to find anything left of their victims, excepting bones, but they greatly desired to find the knife which had been Capt. Bowen's present.

Bones they did find--but nothing else. There was every evidence of a ghastly feast having been eaten by the wolves and other animals during the night. Even the skeletons of those which had been slaughtered, were torn to pieces, and for rods around the snow was dyed crimson.

To cry over spilled milk was no part of Ree's disposition, and though he deeply regretted the loss of his knife, he did not allow himself to be dispirited, though little he thought how important a part in their adventures the knife was yet to play.

In their walks about the woods at different times, Ree and John had observed that there were many sugar maples near their cabin and had agreed that they must make some sugar when spring came. That very afternoon, therefore, they began preparations.

Blocks of wood, cut into lengths of about two feet, they hollowed out with their axes, making troughs in which to catch the sap of maples. The work was tedious and many a trough was split and spoiled when all but completed, before they caught the knack of avoiding this by striking curved strokes with their axes, and not letting the blades cut in deeply, in line with the grain of the wood.

This work, and the making of spouts by punching the pith out of sumac branches occupied several days. Not all their time could be given to it, however, as traps must be visited and Indians given attention; for now that the weather was becoming warm the savages came frequently, often with many furs secured during winter hunting expeditions.

"We have made a pretty good living and a nice sum of money for each of us, when our furs shall have been marketed, and have also made ourselves a home," said Ree one day, as they were estimating the probable value of their stores. "After deducting for all losses, we will still have done splendidly if we are fortunate in getting the skins to Pittsburg or Detroit and working a fair bargain with the buyers."

"We better get a good canoe Ree, and learn to use it; then we can take the furs from here to Detroit by water, traveling along the sh.o.r.e of Lake Erie," John suggested. "Capt. Pipe has a couple of fine, big canoes of his own, buried for the winter. I believe he would sell us one."

"We will go and have a talk with him about it soon," Ree answered. But it was not for many days that the lads found time to do this.

Fine weather came sooner than they expected. The spring of 1791 was one of the earliest known to the section which is now Northern Ohio. Even in February the sun came out bright and warm and the cold winds disappeared.

John and Ree awoke one morning after a rainy night to find the water high in the river, the ice gone and the air as mild as on a day in May.

"Hooray! I've a mind to take a swim!" John shouted, looking with enthusiasm at the high water.

"I wish we had our canoe now," Ree joined in; "but I'll tell you, old chap, we must get our maples tapped, if we are to get any sugar."

John turned away from watching the swift, deep current with a sigh.

Somehow he did not feel like working; but under Ree's influence he soon forgot his "spring fever" feeling, and with a small auger bored holes in the trees. Into these holes Ree drove the spouts, placing a trough beneath each one, to catch the sap which at once began to flow.

As all the trees were near the cabin the boys might have carried the sap to their fire-place for boiling, but as this would necessitate the carrying of a great deal of wood, they hung their largest kettle on a pole laid across two forked sticks driven in the ground for that purpose, just at the top of the hill near the edge of the clearing.

By noon enough sap was collected in the troughs to make it necessary to begin the boiling, and from then on through all that day and the next, one of the boys was constantly busy, keeping the fire blazing hot and gathering sap to keep the kettle well filled, as the water was boiled away, leaving only its sweetness. At last they added no fresh sap but allowed the syrup in the kettle to boil down thicker and thicker making in the end, most delicious mola.s.ses.

The boys finished the boiling in the cabin that night, and when the syrup had become thick enough, they were able by stirring and cooling it, to make an excellent quality of sugar. And it had been so long since either of them had tasted sweets, that the maple's fine product was indeed a treat. The prospect that they would be able to make enough sugar to last them until another spring, was highly agreeable, and they were willing enough to work hard during many days which followed.

One regret the boys had, was that they possessed but two kettles, neither of which was very large; but they boiled sap in both and found that by greasing the upper edges of the vessels that they could keep them quite full and still the sap would not boil over.

They also tried the very primitive method used by the Indians before they had kettles in which to make sugar. Several large, nearly round stones were washed clean, then heated very hot in the fire. With improvised tongs they were then lifted into a large keg of cold sap. As this operation was constantly repeated, the sap was heated and slowly evaporated.

The process proved so very slow and laborious, however, that the boys soon abandoned it. But while the experiment was being tried, something occurred which made John laugh until he held his sides. The keg of sap had been heated to almost a boiling point, and putting a couple of large, hot stones in it both boys left the camp, John to gather more sap and Ree to chop some wood.