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and then watch out.”

      A few minutes later, Henry, who was now travelling behind the sled, gave a warning whistle. Bill turned and looked, then stopped the dogs. Behind them trotted a furry form. Its nose was to the trail. When they stopped, it stopped, too, and watched them.

      “It’s the she-wolf,” Bill said.

      The animal trotted forward a few steps, and then, after a pause, a few more steps, and then a few more. It looked at them in a strangely wistful way, like a dog; but there was none of the dog’s affection. It was hungry and cruel.

      It was large for a wolf and had a true wolf-coat. The main colour was grey, with a red– dish hue – a hue that appeared and disappeared, like an illusion of the vision, now grey, really grey, and then again showing some redness of colour.

      “Looks like a big husky sled-dog,” Bill commented. “Hello, you husky!” he shouted, “Come here, you whatever-your-name-is.”

      The animal showed no fear. For it they were meat, and it was hungry; and it would like to go in and eat them.

      “Look here, Henry,” Bill said, “We’ve got three cartridges. But it’s a dead shot. Couldn’t miss it. It’s got away with three of our dogs, and we must put a stop to it. What do you say?”

      Henry nodded. Bill cautiously took the gun. The gun was on the way to his shoulder, but it never got there. For in that instant the she-wolf jumped sidewise from the trail and disappeared.

      The two men looked at each other. Henry whistled.

      “I might have known it,” Bill said as he replaced the gun. “Of course a wolf that knows enough to come with the dogs at feeding time, would know all about guns. I tell you, Henry, that creature’s the cause of all our trouble. We would have six dogs instead of three, if it wasn’t because of her. And, Henry, I’m going to get her. She’s too smart to be shot in the open. But I’ll get her as sure as my name is Bill.”

      They camped early that night. Three dogs could not go so fast nor for so long hours as could six, and they were showing unmistakable signs of weariness. And the men went early to bed, after Bill had made sure that the dogs were tied out of reach of one another.

      But the wolves were growing bolder, and the men woke more than once from their sleep. So near did the wolves approach, that the dogs became mad with terror, and it was necessary to keep the fire burning.

      “They’re going to get us, Henry,” Bill remarked.

      “You’re half eaten when you’re saying such things, Bill, so shut up your croaking.”

      Henry rolled over angrily on his side, but Bill said nothing. Usually he was easily angered by sharp words. Henry thought long over it before he went to sleep: “There’s no doubt Bill’s not well. I’ll have to cheer him up tomorrow.”

      Chapter III. The Hunger Cry

      They had lost no dogs during the night, and Bill seemed to have forgotten his troubles when, at midday, they came to a bad piece of trail. It was an awkward mix-up. The sled was upside down and stuck between a tree-trunk and a huge rock, and they had to unharness the dogs. The two men were bent over the sled and trying to right it, when Henry observed One Ear going away.

      “Here, you, One Ear!” he cried.

      But One Ear was already running across the snow. And there, on their back track, was the she-wolf waiting for him.

      At first One Ear was cautious and dubious. She seemed to smile at him, showing her teeth in a welcoming rather than a menacing way. She moved toward him a few steps and stopped. One Ear came nearer, his tail and ears in the air, his head high. He tried to sniff noses[9] with her, but she retreated playfully. Every advance on his part was accompanied by a corresponding retreat on her part. Step by step she was leading him away from the security of his human companionship. Once he turned his head and looked back at the sled, at his team-mates, and at the two men who were calling to him, but the she-wolf sniffed noses with him for an instant, and then continued her playful retreat.

      In the meantime, Bill remembered of the rifle. But it was stuck beneath the overturned sled, and by the time Henry had helped him to right the load, One Ear and the she-wolf were too close together and the distance too great to risk a shot.

      Too late One Ear realized his mistake. Suddenly, the two men saw him turn and start to run back toward them. Then they saw a dozen wolves around. The she-wolf’s playfulness disappeared. With a snarl she sprang upon One Ear. His retreat was cut off, so he changed his course, trying to circle around. More wolves were appearing every moment and joining the chase. The she-wolf was one leap behind One Ear.

      “Where are you going?” Henry asked Bill and tried to stop him.

      “I won’t stand it. They won’t get any more of our dogs.”

      Henry remained behind after Bill had gone. He judged One Ear’s case to be hopeless. He could not break the circle of his pursuers.

      Henry sat on the sled. And too quickly, far more quickly than he had expected, it happened. He heard a shot, then two more shots, and he knew that Bill’s ammunition was gone. Then he heard a great outcry of snarls. He recognised One Ear’s yell of pain and terror, and he heard a wolf-cry of an injured animal. And that was all. The snarls ceased. Silence fell down again on the lonely land.

      He sat for a long while upon the sled. There was no need for him to go and see what had happened. He knew it as though it had taken place before his eyes. Once, he roused with a start[10] and quickly got the axe out from the sled. But for some time longer he sat and brooded, the two remaining dogs crouching and trembling at his feet.

      At last he arose wearily, as though all the determination had gone out of his body, and fastened the dogs to the sled. He passed a rope over his shoulder, and pulled with the dogs. He did not go far. At the first hint of darkness he made a camp and prepared a generous supply of firewood. He fed the dogs, cooked and ate his supper, and made his bed close to the fire.

      But he could not enjoy that bed. The wolves were around him and the fire, in a narrow circle, and he saw them plainly: lying down, sitting up, crawling forward on their bellies, or going around. They even slept. Here and there he could see one curled up in the snow like a dog, taking the sleep that he could not now afford.

      He kept the fire blazing, because he knew that it alone was between the flesh of his body and their hungry fangs. His two dogs stayed close by him, one on either side, whimpering and snarling desperately. Bit by bit, an inch[11] at a time, with here a wolf bellying forward, and there a wolf bellying forward, the circle narrowed until the man started taking brands from the fire and throwing them into the brutes.

      Morning found him tired and worn. He cooked breakfast in the darkness, and at nine o’clock, when the wolves drew back, he started doing what he had planned through the night. He made a wooden scaffold and fixed it high up to the trunks of trees. With the use of a rope, and with the aid of the dogs, he put the coffin to the top of the scaffold.

      “They got Bill, and they may get me, but they’ll never get you, young man,” he said, addressing the dead body in the coffin.

      Then he took the trail with the lightened sled. Dogs were willing to pull, for they, too, knew that safety was in Fort McGurry. The wolves were now more open in their pursuit. They were very lean – so lean that Henry wondered how they still kept their feet.

      He did not dare travel after dark. In grey daylight and dim twilight he prepared an enormous supply of fire-wood.

      With night came horror. Not only were the starving wolves growing bolder, but lack of sleep was telling upon Henry.[12] He dozed, crouching by the fire, the blankets about his shoulders, the axe between his knees, and on either side a dog pressing close against him. He awoke once and saw in front of him, not a dozen feet away, a big grey wolf, one of the largest of the pack. The brute deliberately stretched himself, like a lazy dog, looking upon him as if, in truth, he were just a

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