“That is the howling of a pack of wolves,” the officer said.  “They are savage brutes, and when in company will not hesitate to attack small parties of men.  They abound in the mountains, and are a scourge to the shepherds of the plains, especially in the cold weather, when they descend and commit terrible damage among the flocks.”

“I thought I did not know the sound,” Malchus said.  “The nights were noisy enough sometimes at the southern edge of the desert.  The packs of jackals, with their sharp yelping cry, abounded; then there was the deeper note of the hyenas, and the barking cry of troops of monkeys, and the thundering roar of the lions.  They were unpleasant enough, and at first used to keep one awake; but none of them were so lugubrious as that mournful howl I hear now.  I suppose sometimes, when there is nothing else to do, we get up hunting parties?”

“Yes,” the officer replied; “it is the chief amusement of our garrisons in winter among the wild parts of the country.  Of course, near Carthagena these creatures have been eradicated; but among the mountains they abound, and the carcass of a dead horse is sure to attract plenty of them.  It is a sport not without danger; and there are many instances where parties of five or six have gone out, taking with them a carcass to attract the wolves, and have never returned; and a search has resulted in the discovery of their weapons, injured and perhaps broken, of stains of blood and signs of a desperate struggle, but of them not so much as a bone has remained behind.”

“I thought lion hunting was an exciting sport but the lions, although they may move and hunt in companies, do not fight in packs, as these fierce brutes seem to do.  I hope some day to try it.  I should like to send back two of their heads to hang on the wall by the side of that of the lion I killed up in the desert.”

“Next winter you may do so,” the officer said.  “The season is nearly over now, and you may be sure that Hannibal will give us enough to do without our thinking of hunting wolves.  The Vacaei are fierce enough.  Perhaps two of their heads would do instead of those of wolves.”

“I do not think my mother and sisters would approve of that,” Malchus laughed; “so I must wait for the winter.”

The night did not pass so quietly as that which had preceded it.  The distant howling of the wolves, as they hunted in the forest, kept the horses in a tremor of terror and excitement, and their riders were obliged over and over again to rise and go among them, and by speaking to and patting them, to allay their fear.  So long as their masters were near them the well trained horses were quiet and tractable, and would at a whispered order lie down and remain in perfect quiet; but no sooner had they left them and again settled to sleep than, at the first howl which told that the pack were at all approaching, the horses would lift their heads, prick their ears in the direction of the sound, and rise to their feet and stand trembling, with extended nostrils snuffing the unknown danger, pawing the ground, and occasionally making desperate efforts to break loose from their picket ropes.