His companion saw the terrible question in his face.
"Wolves," he said.

"They're away back in the forest.

They won't come down to us." For a moment he was silent, his eyes turned to the sea.
Then he added, "Do you notice anything queer about the way you're bound to that stake, Nat ?" There was a thrilling emphasis in Nathaniel's answer.

He nodded his head affirmatively, again and again.
"Your hands are tied to the post very loosely, with a slack of say six inches," continued Neil with an appalling precision.

"There is a rawhide thong about your neck, wet, and so tight that it chafes your skin when you move your head.