rolled into a copse of bushes.

There he lay, shouting for help at the top of his voice, and expecting to be immediately torn to pieces.

Lusty cries quickly answered him, and trampling footsteps came near. He saw the gleam of the lantern go by, and then a rifle cracked sharply. The next thing he knew Jerry and Hamp were hauling him to his feet.

“Where’s the catamount?” he panted. “Did you kill it?”

“Missed,” replied Jerry. “I only had a snap shot. The creature bolted into the forest when it saw the lantern. We didn’t get here any too soon.”

“I thought I was a goner,” declared Brick.

His face was pale, and he trembled like a leaf.

Hamp had a great load of wood on his back, and the fire was soon blazing merrily.

The catamount made no sign for ten minutes, and then a wailing cry from far off told that he was retreating.

After waiting a little longer the boys went back to their warm blankets and pine boughs.

They fell asleep very quickly, and it was broad daylight when they got awake. The sun was behind murky gray clouds, and the air was bitterly cold. The snow crunched sharply under foot, and the lake was frozen from shore to shore.

The presence of the catamount in the vicinity decided the boys to hunt a new camping-place.

After breakfasting on bacon and fried potatoes, they packed the sleds and started.

They traveled northward over the ice, following all the bays and indentations of the lake’s crooked shore. At noon they stopped for lunch. The cold was something awful.

“It looks as though we were going to have a hard winter,” said Jerry when they were on the march again. “It’s a good thing that we brought snowshoes, and plenty of extra blankets along.”

“I hope we don’t see anything more of that catamount,” replied Brick. “I suppose there are plenty of them in the woods, though.”

“A good many,” assented Hamp. “But they don’t often trouble hunters. This fellow was extra savage. He must have been hungry.”

“They’ve been known to follow men for days and weeks in bitter weather,” said Jerry.

The conversation shifted to another topic, and the boys trudged on for half an hour. Then Brick suddenly gave a sharp cry, and pointed to a spot on the shore, some fifty yards distant.

“I saw the catamount over there,” he declared. “It was a big, yellowish-gray animal, and it slipped past that rock into the bushes.”

“Sure?” asked Hamp, anxiously.

“Dead sure.”

The boys looked and listened. They were about moving on, when a long, thick-set animal stole out of the forest, and crouched by the edge of the ice. It wailed in a mournful tone, and crept a little nearer. It was as large a catamount as the two Maine lads had ever seen.

“There’s a chance,” exclaimed Jerry. “Come on. We’ll try to get within easy shooting distance of the brute. Three of us can’t well miss.”

The boys abandoned the sled, and advanced toward shore, with loaded rifles. But before they had taken a dozen steps the catamount turned tail, and vanished in the timber.

“No use,” muttered Hamp. “That’s a crafty fellow, and he’s not going to give us any advantage. He’ll stick to us like a leech, though, and some time, when we are off our guard——”

A significant pause ended the sentence.

“What are we going to do about it?” asked Brick. “This knocks all the fun in the head. We won’t dare go to sleep at nights.”

“We’ve got to get rid of the brute,” replied Jerry, “and I think I know how to do it. What do you say to cutting straight across the lake, and making our camp on the other side? I don’t believe the catamount will follow us over miles of open snow and ice.”

This suggestion was warmly approved. They headed due west toward the faintly visible forest on the further shore of the lake, a distance of ten or twelve miles.

To keep off the intense cold they ran along on a dog trot. The sleds trailed easily behind them over the patches of crisp snow and glassy ice.

Two hours later the western shore of Moosehead Lake loomed clearly before the young voyagers. They were not half a mile away. They could look right into the dense forest that stretched far away to Canada.

“Got the time, Brick?” asked Jerry.

“Yes; it’s just half-past three.”

“Well, suppose we push up the lake for another hour. By that time we’ll likely strike the sort of a camping-place we want.”

The others agreed, and Jerry led them to within twenty yards of the shore. Then they turned northward, and went on at a rapid trot.

About half a mile ahead a spit of rocky and timbered land jutted out from the shore.

“We ought to find a good place behind that,” said Hamp.

“No doubt we shall,” Jerry added.

“I hope so,” declared Brick. “I’m as hungry as a bear. I haven’t had such an appetite since the day——”

Brick never finished. He was interrupted by a crashing noise a short distance back in the forest. The sound came rapidly nearer and louder. The boys stopped, and looked at one another in alarm.

“It must be a deer,” exclaimed Jerry, “and some animal is chasing it. The wind is blowing this way. We may get a shot.”

Crash! out from the forest burst a magnificent buck, with widely-branching antlers. He bounded down the sloping bank, and over the ice. He was panting and exhausted.

Close behind leaped a gaunt, ravenous wolf, flecked with foam and perspiration. Both animals swept out on the lake, making straight at the frightened and amazed boys.

Brick had a sudden attack of buckfever. He stood stupidly still. The others hurriedly grabbed their rifles from the sled. Jerry ran a few steps in front of his companions.

Then, for the first time, the buck saw the lads. He snorted with terror, and tried vainly to check himself on the slippery ice.

Jerry knelt and took aim. He was too excited to be cautious. He pulled trigger at a range of fifteen feet.

The ball failed to reach a mortal part. It hit the buck in the left flank, inflicting a painful wound. The huge animal’s terror instantly changed to wrath. With lowered antlers, he dashed full tilt at Jerry.

The lad started to run, but his rifle caught between his legs. He sprawled headlong on the ice. He was right in front of the enraged buck. In a few seconds the cruel hoofs and sharp horns would mangle his body.

At the same instant the wolf, maddened by hunger and passion, veered with a shrill yelp. He leaped savagely upon Hamp’s breast, and bore him to the ice.

Hamp escaped death by a display of nerve and coolness that was remarkable in one so young.

The wolf, happily, missed the lad’s throat. Instead, the white teeth snapped shut on the thick, furry collar of his overcoat. For an instant they stuck there, and this gave Hamp his chance.

With one hand he grabbed the wolf’s shaggy breast, and pushed against it; with the other he reached for the long hunting-knife that dangled from his belt. He drew it from the sheath, and plunged it fiercely into the wolf’s body.

Twice, thrice the keen blade cut its way deeply through flesh and skin. A vital part was reached at last. With a gurgling cry the brute relaxed its hold, and slipped to one side.

Hamp rolled away from the quivering carcass, and sprang to his feet. His clothes were thickly smeared with blood, but a scratch or two was his sole