Then he moved along the bough and hung it on a branch some ten feet from the ground, slashing open with his dagger its chest and stomach.

Having done this he returned to his place.

Six wolves were one after the other so hauled up and despatched, and as Malchus expected, the smell of their blood rendered the pack more savage than ever.

They assembled round the foot of the tree, and continued to spring at the trunk, making vain endeavours to get at the supply of food which hung tantalizingly at so short a distance beyond their reach.
So the day passed as before without signs of rescue.

When it became dark Malchus again descended to the lowest trunk, and fired his three remaining arrows among the wolves below him.