Kathlyn had to go down to the very bottom of the ravine. She must
follow the goat path, no matter where it wound, for this ultimately
would lead her to the rest house. As she started up the final incline,
through the cedars and pines, she heard the bark of the wolf, the red
wolf who hunted in packs of twenty or thirty, in reality far more
menacing than a tiger or a panther, since no hunter could kill a whole
pack.
To this wolf, when hunting his kill, the tiger gave wide berth; the
bear took to his cave, and all fleet-footed things of the jungles fled
in panic.
Kathlyn climbed as rapidly as she could. She dared not mount a tree,
for the red wolf would outwit her. She must go on. The bark, or yelp,
had been a signal; but now there came to her ears the long howl. She
had heard it often in the great forests at home. It was the call of
the pack that there was to be a kill. She might shoot half a dozen of
them, and the living rend the dead, but the main pack would follow on
and overtake her.
She swung on upward, catching a sapling here, a limb there, pulling
herself over hard bits of going. Once she turned and fired a chance
shot in the direction of the howling. Far away came the roar of one of
the mountain lions; and the pack of red wolves became suddenly and
magically silent. Kathlyn made good use of this interval. But
presently the pack raised its howl again, and she knew that the grim
struggle was about to begin.
She reached the door of the rest house just as the pack, a large one,
came into view, heads down, tails streaming. Pundita, who was at the
fire preparing the noon meal, seized Kathlyn by the arm and hurried her
into the house, barricading the door. The wolves, arriving, flung
themselves against it savagely. But the door was stout, and only a
battering-ram in human hands could have made it yield.
Unfortunately, there was no knowing when the men-folk would return from
their chase of the horses, nor how long the wolves would lay siege.
The two women tried shooting, though Pundita was the veriest tyro,
being more frightened at the weapon in her hands than at the howling
animals outside. They did little or no damage to the wolves, for the
available cracks were not at sufficiently good angles. An hour went
by, Kathlyn could hear the wolves as they crowded against the door,
sniffing the sill.
The colonel, Bruce, Ramabai and Ahmed had found the horses half a dozen
miles away; and they had thrashed the thieving natives soundly and
instilled the right kind of fear in their breasts. At rifle point they
had forced the natives back to the rest house. The crack of their
rifles soon announced to Kathlyn that the dread of wolves was a thing
of the past. She wisely refrained from recounting her experiences.
The men had worry enough.