When he reached the summit the clear baying of hunting wolves was borne to his ears.
The hill sloped gradually on the other side, ending in a white, unbroken plain which extended to the edge of the laurel thicket a quarter of a mile distant.

Jonathan could not see the wolves, but he heard distinctly their peculiar, broken howls.

They were in pursuit of something, whether quadruped or man he could not decide.

Another moment and he was no longer in doubt, for a deer dashed out of the thicket.

Jonathan saw that it was a buck and that he was well nigh exhausted; his head swung low from side to side; he sank slowly to his knees, and showed every indication of distress.
The next instant the baying of the wolves, which had ceased for a moment, sounded close at hand.