caught sight of Chan's figure
as he ran for the nearest tree and seemingly with one leap he was upon
him. He sprang at him from the side; and his fangs gleamed once.

He had struck true, his fangs went home, and the life went out of Chan
Heminway in a single, neighing scream. He pitched forward, shuddered
once in the soft grass, and lay still. The pack surged around his body,
struck at it once or twice, then stood growling as if waiting for their
leader's command.

Before ever Ray fell, Ben had taken what measures of self-defense he
could in case the pack, forgetting its master's master, might turn on
himself and the girl. He had reached the knife hilt and severed the
ropes about the girl's wrists. "Stay behind me," he cautioned. "Don't
move a muscle."

He knew that any attempt to reach and climb a tree would attract the
attention of the pack and send them ravening about her. Again he knew
that her life as well as his own depended on his control of the pack
leader. He saw Chan go down, seemingly in a single instant, and he
braced himself against attack. "Down, Fenris!" he shouted. "Down--get
down!"

The great wolf started at the voice, then stood beside the fallen,
gazing at Ben with fierce, luminous eyes. "Down, down, boy," Ben
cautioned, in a softer voice. "There, old fellow--down--down."

Then Fenris whined in answer, and Ben knew that he was no longer to be
feared. The three lesser wolves seemed startled, standing in a nervous
group, yet growling savagely and eyeing him across the dying fire. For a
moment Fenris's fury had passed to them, but now that his rage was dead,
all they had left was an inborn fear of such a breed as this,--these
tall forms that died so easily in their fangs. Fenris trotted slowly
toward Ben, but with the true instincts of the wild his followers knew
that this was no affair of fangs and death. He came in love, in a
remembered comradeship, just as often he had led them to the mouth of
the cavern, and they did not understand. They slowly backed away into
the shadows, fading like ghosts.

Ben's arms, in unspeakable gratitude, went about the shoulders of the
wolf. Beatrice, sobbing uncontrollably yet swept with that infinite
thankfulness of the redeemed, crept to his side. Fenris whined and
shivered in the arms of his god.

Quietude came at last to that camp beside the lake, in the far, hidden
heart of Back There. Once more the blood moved with sweet, normal
tranquillity in the veins,