Fred fancied that the two had met in the ravine, and, clubbing his gun, he whacked the beast over his head every time he leaped at him.  He struck him royal, resounding blows, too, but, somehow or other, they failed to produce any effect.  The wolf kept coming and coming again, until, at last, the boy concluded he would wind up the bout by jumping upon, and throwing him down, and then deliberately choking him to death.

He made the jump, and awakening instantly, found he had leaped “out of bed,” and was falling downward through the limbs.  It all flashed upon the lad with the suddenness of lightning.

He remembered the ravenous wolves, and, with a shuddering horror which cannot be pictured or imagined, felt that he was dropping directly into their fangs.  It was the instinct of nature which caused him to throw out his feet and hands in the hope of checking his fall.

By a hair’s breadth he succeeded.  But it was nearly the lowermost limb which he grasped with his desperate clutch, and hung with his arms dangling within reach of the wolves below.

The famished brutes seemed to be expecting this choice tid-bit to drop into their maws, and their yelps and howls became wilder than ever, and they nearly broke each other’s necks in their furious frolicing back and forth.

The moment young Munson succeeded in checking himself, he made a quick effort to draw up his feet and regain his place beyond the reach of the brutes.  It was done in a twinkling, but not soon enough to escape one of the creatures, which made a leap and fastened upon his foot.

The lad was just twisting himself over the limb, when he felt one of his shoes seized in the jaws of a wolf.  The sudden addition to his weight drew him down again, and almost jerked his hold from the limb, in which event he would have been snapped up and disposed of before he could have made a struggle in the way of resistance.  But he held on, and with an unnatural spasm of strength, drew himself and the clogging weight part way up, kicking both feet with the fury of despair.

The wolf held fast to one shoe, while the heel of the other was jammed into his eyes.  This, however, would not have dislodged him, had not his own comrades interfered, and defeated the brute by their own eager greediness.  Seeing that the first one had fastened to the prize, a half-dozen of them began leaping upward with the purpose of securing a share in the same.  In this way they got into each other’s way, and all came tumbling to the ground in a heap.

Before they could repeat the performance the terrified lad was a dozen feet beyond their reach, and climbing still higher.

When Fred reached his former perch, he was in doubt whether he should halt or go still higher.  His heart was throbbing violently, and he was white and panting from the frightful shock he had received.

“That was awful!” he gasped, as he reflected upon what had taken place.  “I don’t know what saved me from death!  Yes, I do; it was God!” he added, looking up through the leaves to the clear, moonlit sky above him.  “He has brought me through a good many dangers, and He will not forsake me.”