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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
163
We
were
standing
around
within
fifteen
feet,
ready
to
help,
but
had
no
chance
till
were
not
needed.
The
Wolf
was
dead,
and
I
hallooed
to
Snap,
but
he
did
not
move.
I
bent
over
him.
"Snap--Snap,
it's
all
over;
you've
killed
him."
But
the
Dog
was
very
still,
and
now
I
saw
two
deep
wounds
in
his
body.
I
tried
to
lift
him.
"Let
go,
old
fellow;
it's
all
over."
He
growled
feebly,
and
at
last
go
of
the
Wolf.
The
rough
cattle-men
were
kneeling
around
him
now;
old
Penroof's
voice
was
trembling
as
he
muttered,
"I
wouldn't
had
him
hurt
for
twenty
steers."
I
lifted
him
in
my
arms,
called
to
him
and
stroked
his
head.
He
snarled
a
little,
a
farewell
as
it
proved,
for
he
licked
my
hand
as
he
did
so,
then
never
snarled
again.
That
was
a
sad
ride
home
for
me.
There
was
the
skin
of
a
monstrous
Wolf,
but
no
other
hint
of
triumph.
We
buried
the
fearless
one
on
a
butte
back
of
the
Ranch-house.
Penroof,
as
he
stood
by,
was
heard
to
grumble:
"By
jingo,
that
was
grit--cl'ar
grit!
Ye
can't
raise
Cattle
without
grit."
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