ight. Safety was hundreds
of yards away in the house; the skirts tangled about her legs; and
behind her the dull impacts of the bull's hoofs swept close and closer.
Then she heard a snarl in front, a deep-throated, murderous snarl, and
she saw Black Bart racing towards her. He whizzed by her like a black
thunderbolt; there was a roar and bellow behind her, and at the same
time she stumbled over a fence-board and fell upon her knees. But when
she cast a glance of terror behind her she saw the bull lying on its
side with lolling tongue and glazing eyes and the fangs of Black Dart
were buried in its throat.

When she reached this point in her musings her glance naturally turned
towards the wolf-dog, and she started violently when she saw that Bart
was slinking towards her, trailing the helpless leg. The moment he felt
her eyes upon him, Bart dropped down, motionless, with a wicked baring
of his teeth; his eyes closed, and he seemed, as usual, dreaming in the
sun.

Was the brute stalking her? It was worse, in a way, than the ordeal of
the day before, this stealthy, noiseless approach. And in her panic she
first thought of springing from her chair and reaching a distance which
the chain would keep him from following. Yet it was very strange. Black
Bart in his wildest days after Dan brought him to the ranch had never
been prone to wantonly attack human beings. Infringe upon his right,
come suddenly upon him, and then, indeed, there was a danger to all
saving his master. But this daylight stalking was stranger than words
could tell.

She forced her eyes to look straight ahead and sat with a beating
heart, waiting. Then, by slow degrees, she let her glance travel
cautiously back towards Bart without turning her head. There was no
doubt about it! The great wolf-dog was slinking towards her on his
belly, still trailing the wounded foreleg. There was something snakelike
in that slow approach, so silent and so gradual.

And yet she waited, moving neither hand nor foot.

A sort of nightmare paralysis held her, as when we flee from some horror
in our dreams and find that our limbs have grown numb. Behind us races
the deadly thing, closer and closer; before us is the door of
safety--only a step to reach it--and yet we cannot move a foot!

It was not all pure terror. There was an incredible excitement as
well--her will against the will of the dumb brute--which would conquer?

She heard a faint rustling of the sand beside her an