"A palace fit for a king," he remarked, half aloud, as he glanced around upon his handiwork. "Now for supper."
A little bacon, a few beans, a taste of sourdough bread, with some black tea for a relish, formed the humble repast.
In the meantime the dog had crept close, attracted by the warm, bright fire, and stood looking wistfully upon the bacon lying before him.
"Hungry, old boy, eh?" asked Keith. "You look as if you had eaten nothing for a month. Well, then, here's a piece of bacon and bread. To-morrow I'll try to snip a rabbit for you."
The ravenous beast seized eagerly the precious morsels, devoured them with a gulp or two, and looked longingly for more.
"Can't do it, doggie," said Keith, noticing the animal's beseeching eyes, "I've only a little left, and a hard trail lies ahead."
Then something around the dog's neck arrested his attention. It was a small object fastened to a rude collar. What could it be?
"Come here, laddie," he called, "and let me see what you've got there."
The cur, however, kept at a safe distance, but showed a degree of friendliness by short jerks of his tail.
"Perhaps a piece of bacon will bring him," and Keith held a portion temptingly before his view.
The dog pricked up his ears, advanced, drew back, and looked around. Then, squatting down upon his haunches, he lifted his nose into the air and gave vent to a most doleful howl.
"Come on, old boy," encouraged Keith, still holding the bacon between his fingers.
Little by little the dog approached, and with much coaxing was induced to draw near, and after a time nestled by the man's side, where he quickly devoured the coveted morsel of food.
"Now, let's see what you've got here," and Keith examined the object attached to the collar.
It was a piece of brown paper, old and soiled, and evidently it had seen hard usage. It was carefully folded, and tied with twine made up of several short pieces. With the point of his hunting knife, Keith cut the string, and when he had opened the paper he beheld a number of words, scrawled with some red material, which looked much like blood. By the flickering camp fire he managed with difficulty to decipher the following startling message:
"For God's sake, help. I'm dying."
That was all, and for some time Keith held the paper in his hand and gazed steadily into the fire.
"Strange," he mused. "Where could the animal have come from? I did not know there was a white man near. But it must be some poor wretch who has been stranded in this desolate region. Let me see. That dog could not have travelled far in his present miserable condition. I believe I could track him, and perhaps find his master either dead or alive. But then that would mean great delay, and I hoped with hard travelling to reach Klassan by to-morrow night. Besides, there is not much food left, only a little bacon, bread, and a few beans. Oh, well, I'll sleep on it, and in the morning perhaps I may see more clearly."
The fire roared cheerfully, seizing with avidity upon the dry fir sticks. The sparks shot up into the darkness, whirling, twisting, and dancing, like so many happy fairies. The tall trees stood out in bold relief, sombre and silent. "Yes," he mused, "I believe it's a warning, and I must no longer hesitate. That poor fellow needs help, and no doubt this dog was guided by some good angel. I must go as soon as the day breaks, and leave the matter of food to the Father's care."
With the fire well replenished, and the loaded rifle close at hand, Keith rolled himself up in his wolf-skin robe and was soon fast asleep.
It seemed that he had lain but a short time, when he was aroused by a weight pressing against his body, accompanied by a startling noise. Half dazed, he lifted himself to a sitting posture and looked around. The fire was almost out and the charred sticks were emitting but a feeble glow. The weight against his body was caused by the dog, huddling near as possible and growling in the most ferocious manner. It did not take long to understand the creature's terror, for a sound fell upon his ears which caused his heart to beat fast and a cold chill to pass through his body. Out of the darkness came the long-drawn howls, which he easily recognized. They were wolves, drawing nearer and nearer, how many he could not tell. Quickly throwing a few fresh sticks on the smouldering embers, he seized his rifle, examined it carefully, and looked to the keen knife in his belt.
"Never mind," he remarked to the crouching form at his feet. "We'll give them a warm reception, at any rate."
"O-o-o-ow. O-o-o-ow," came those awful sounds, at any time terrible to hear, but at night in the lonely wild, how appalling!
Keith strained his eyes through the darkness in an effort to catch a glimpse of the enemy. That they were bearing down upon him there was no doubt. But look as he might nothing was to be observed except the trees standing silently around. Presently the howlings ceased, and all was still. What did this signify? That the wolves had gone on some other scent? Ah, no. Keith was too well accustomed to the ways of these creatures to believe such a thing. He knew that the stillness was but a prelude to the storm; that the animals were stalking their prey; that gleaming eyes were watching his slightest movement, and that keen white fangs were bared, ready to tear him to pieces.
Not for an instant did he abate his watchfulness, and ere long he beheld savage eyes, glowing like fiery balls, peering out of the night. Nearer and nearer they drew, until the forms of the animals could be dimly discerned. Then he brought the rifle to his shoulder, took careful aim, and fired. Instantly a sharp yell split the darkness, followed by fierce, snarling sounds, which plainly told that the fallen brute was being devoured by its ravenous companions.
So quickly had all this taken place that before Keith had time for a second shot, or even to throw out the empty shell and drive a loaded one home, a huge beast sprang full upon him from the left. Instinctively he leaped aside, and the wolf, missing his prey, landed upon the fire only a short distance away. A cry of mingled pain and rage ensued as the creature's feet touched the hot coals. Then followed a scattering of sticks as the animal shot out of the fire and bounded off into the depths of the forest.
So sudden was the attack, and unexpected the deliverance, that Keith stared in amazement. Then a smile passed over his face at the thought of the wolf's surprise, and the spectacle of his hurried retreat. His merriment, however, was of short duration. There was stern work still ahead.
So intent was he on peering into the darkness after the fleeing form that he did not notice another large brute slinking stealthily up on his right. With a snarl it sprang straight at him, and before Keith could lift a hand in self-defence he staggered back, tripped over a twig, and fell heavily to the ground. With one hand he seized the wolf by the throat with a vise-like grip, while with the other he endeavored in vain to draw forth his hunting knife.
At this critical moment the dog, which up to this time had presented the appearance of abject terror, aroused suddenly to action. It rushed upon the wolf like the incarnation of fury, and sinking its teeth into the monster's side began to tear the quivering flesh.
Assailed from this new quarter, the wolf tried to turn back upon the dog. This effort partly relieved the weight from Keith's body and enabled him to grip the handle of his trusty knife. It took but an instant to rip it from its sheath and plunge the keen, glittering point into his antagonist's side. With a yell of pain the wolf attempted to escape. It was too late; the blow had been sure, and ere long he was quivering in death upon the ground, with the dog worrying him to the last.
Keith at once sprang for his rifle, thrust in a loaded shell, and stood awaiting the next move of his savage enemy.
CHAPTER II
ABANDONED
All through the dark hours of the night Keith kept watch,