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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
93
In
fifty
seconds
it
was
done.
The
rock
had
splashed
the
stream
aside--the
Penroof
pack
was
all
wiped
out;
and
Badlands
Billy
stood
there,
alone
again
on
his
mountain.
A
moment
he
waited
to
look
for
more
to
come.
There
were
no
more,
the
pack
was
dead;
but
waiting
he
got
his
breath,
then
raising
his
voice
for
the
first
time
in
that
fatal
scene,
he
feebly
gave
a
long
yell
of
triumph,
and
scaling
the
next
low
bank,
was
screened
from
view
in
a
cañon
of
Sentinel
Butte.
We
stared
like
men
of
stone.
The
guns
in
our
hands
were
forgotten.
It
was
all
so
quick,
so
final.
We
made
no
move
till
the
Wolf
was
gone.
It
was
not
far
to
the
place:
we
went
on
foot
to
see
if
any
had
escaped.
Not
one
was
left
alive.
We
could
do
nothing--we
could
say
nothing.
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