America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 80: Are Wolf Cubs in the Wilderness Hard to Tame?

"You need to be careful; such a strong smell of blood will attract wolves at night!"

Uncle Sam looked at the venison with a touch of envy.

Although it's a good time for hunting now, who can hunt four sturdy male deer early in the morning?

Uncle Sam took Tom's family a little more seriously.

In the western wilderness, the important thing is not to be a law-abiding citizen, but to have the skills to hunt prey and protect your family from harm.

"Don't worry, we outnumber you and we have guns!"

Ennis instinctively retorted and brandished the revolver at his waist.

Uncle Sam shook his head in surprise, "Although the wolves won't have trouble finding food right now, the smell of blood here is too strong and will definitely attract them!"

Although Tom didn't know how fierce Postman's wolf pack was, he did know that the smell of blood would attract wolves!

"Hahaha, Tom, you're scared!" Cook Jonah took a big gulp of wine.

He looked at Tom with a mocking gaze, "A pack of wolves, huh? Those are the wolves of Montana at night!"

Jonah's deafening laughter was followed by Ennis and Tom's own bursts of laughter.

How many wolf packs did they encounter on their westward expansion?

Every single time, the wolf pack would scatter the moment a gunshot rang out!

Of course, Tom couldn't let Uncle Sam's kindness go to waste; he needed to stay alert at night.

"Are you leaving?" Tom asked, noticing that the firewood on the truck had been unloaded.

Uncle Sam nodded, as if he wanted to say something more, but then swallowed his words back.

"If your son Hill hasn't found work on the ranch by next spring, he can come to Darton's house!"

Tom thought to himself, even if they leave, he will introduce Hill to the next rancher!

"Okay! Thank you so much!" Uncle Sam offered his sincere thanks.

Tom looked at Sam’s tired face and a thought flashed through his mind: Should he persuade the father and son to claim a piece of their own land?

But he suppressed the thought as soon as it popped into his head.

The relationship isn't that close yet. Land is a big deal, and it's inappropriate for an outsider like him to bring it up.

Suddenly, a series of sharp, ear-piercing wailing sounds came from the tool shed.

Uncle Sam frowned deeply: "That noise... it sounds like wolf cubs?"

Tom's heart skipped a beat, but he remained outwardly calm: "It's nothing. Aren't you in a hurry? Let's get going!"

The meaning couldn't be clearer: get out of here and mind your own business!

Uncle Sam, being a sensible man, immediately called to his two sons, "Let's go!"

But Hill, that kid, seemed to have his feet rooted to the ground.

"It's the sound of wolf cubs!" he muttered, his feet moving towards the tool shed as if on their own.

Tom cursed under his breath and quickly followed.

When Uncle Sam saw his son acting recklessly, he forgot about the carriage and took off after him!

The closer you get to the tool shed, the more eerie the sound becomes. It's not just a simple whimper; it's mixed with the "crackling" sound of claws scratching at the wood and the "squeaking" sound of teeth gnawing on the wood, exuding a frenzied energy.

The shed was dimly lit, and a cage stood conspicuously in the corner.

Hill's eyes widened instantly!

"Good heavens! It's a wolf cub!" He gasped.

Uncle Sam, who was right behind him, reacted as quickly as an old wolf. He reached for the knife at his waist and lunged forward!

"Don't move!" Tom hissed, blocking the way. "They're mine!"

Following Hill's bewildered gaze, Uncle Sam finally saw what was inside the cage:

Four half-grown wolf cubs!

The baby hair has long since fallen out, replaced by a coat of coarse, gray fur, with faint traces of the light-colored patches from when the baby was little still visible.

Half of his eyes still held the innocent curiosity of a young animal, while the other half revealed the cold, ferocious light of a predator.

Its skeleton was stretched out, and it looked almost as big as an adult wolf, but it didn't have much flesh on its body; it was thin and long.

Upon seeing Tom, his drool immediately flowed down his cheeks, leaving a wet patch on the ground.

Its claws scratched the ground like mad, carving deep furrows into the hard mud!

Uncle Sam felt a chill run down his spine.

Raising wolf cubs? Are they tired of living?

"Sir!" His throat tightened, his voice trembling, "This thing can't be tamed! It's a wolf! It has the instinct to bite in its very bones!"

"That's right!" Hill immediately chimed in, his face pale. "Our former boss also found three wolf cubs in a snowdrift in the winter and raised them like treasures! And what happened? In just a few months, the beasts grew up and bit him to death!" His words hit the ground like a block of ice.

Uncle Sam nodded quickly, still shaken: "That's the poor bastard! A wolf raised by humans can turn on you faster than flipping through a book!"

Tom and Ennis exchanged a quick glance.

This rumor sounds eerie, but why isn't there anything good about it?

"I know what I'm doing," Tom said, his voice deepening.

Uncle Sam dared not linger any longer. He grabbed Hill, who was still staring at the wolf cub, and practically dragged his son away from this unusual place.

Only three people remained in the shed.

Tom stared at the several pairs of eerie green eyes in the cage, his brow furrowed.

"It's not too late to regret it now," Ennis stepped forward, his voice low. "I'll take care of it for you."

"I think it's a good idea!" Cook Jonah took a big gulp of wine, his throat gurgling, and immediately expressed his agreement.

Tom whirled around, his gaze slicing through the two of them like a knife: "What? You can't tolerate them either?"

Ennis and Jonah exchanged glances before quickly looking away, both with a hint of unease on their faces.

"Tom," Ennis sighed, pointing outside, "haven't you figured it out yet? Besides you and James, who else dares to go near this cage? Even little John was warned by Margaret to stay away from those man-eating monstrosities!"

"Ennis's right!" Jonah leaned against the broken door, his breath reeking of alcohol. "I just don't understand! If you want guard dogs, why not spend some money to buy a few good ones from the big cities in the east? Why bother with these wild, unruly ingrates?"

He spat angrily, "I've spent half my life in this wasteland, and I've never seen a wolf cub raised by anyone not end up pointing its fangs at its master!"

Tom didn't say a word, and suddenly pulled open the cage door!

Several wolf cubs pounced out like arrows released from a bow!

His sharp gaze swept quickly over the restless little beasts; some bared their milk teeth and tore at his trouser legs, while others eagerly rubbed their furry bodies against his thighs.

Some even circled around him frantically, while others tried to pounce on him with a kick of their hind legs!

"Untamed spirit! It's in his bones; he can't change it!"

An unnamed anger suddenly surged into my heart.

Without further hesitation, Tom grabbed the leather rope at hand and put it around the neck of the nearest wolf cub.

How could a wolf cub possibly submit?

It immediately began to struggle and twist desperately, letting out a threatening growl from its throat, and even opened its mouth to bite Tom's wrist hard!

"Tom!" Ennis and Jonah, who were standing nearby, were terrified and cried out in alarm.