This went
on till the wolves had made such an excavation that the man thought
they must be nearing the bottom of the den. He waited breathlessly for
the denouement, which he knew would be exciting.

He had not long to wait.

On a sudden, as if jerked from a catapult, the old carcajou sprang
clear out, snatching at the muzzle of the nearest wolf. He dodged, but
not quite far enough; and she caught him fairly in the side of the
throat, just behind the jaw. It was a deadly grip, and the wolf rose
on his hind legs, struggling frantically to shake her off. But with
her great strength and powerful, clutching claws, which she used
almost as a bear might, she pulled him down on top of her, striving to
use his bulk as a shield against the fangs of the other wolf; and the
two rolled over and over to the foot of the knoll.

It was the second young wolf, unfortunately for her, that she had
fastened upon, or the victory, even against such odds, might have been
hers. But the old leader was wary. He saw that his comrade was done
for; so he stood watchful, biding his chance to get just the grip he
wanted. At length, as he saw the younger wolf's struggles growing
feebler, he darted in and slashed the carcajou frightfully across the
loins. But this was not the hold that he wanted. As she dropped her
victim and turned upon him valiantly, he caught her high up on the
back, and held her fast between his bone-crushing jaws. It was a final
and fatal grip; but she was not beaten until she was dead. With her
fierce eyes already glazing she writhed about and succeeded in fixing
her death-grip upon the victor's lean fore leg. With the last ounce
of her strength, the last impulses of her courage and her hate, she
clinched her jaws till her teeth met through flesh, sinew and the
cracking bone itself. Then her lifeless body went limp, and with a
swing of his massive neck the old wolf flung her from him.

Having satisfied himself that she was quite dead, the old wolf now
slunk off on three legs into the swamp, holding his maimed and
bleeding limb as high as he could. Then the man stepped out from his
hiding-place and came forward. The wolf who had been first bitten got
up and limped away with surprising agility; but the one in whose
throat the old carcajou had fixed her teeth lay motionless where he
had fallen, a couple of paces from his dead slayer. Wolf-pelts were no
good at this season, so the man thrust the body carelessly aside with
his fo