from behind him, and its
report rang out echoing and re-echoing amongst the surrounding hills.
There was an answering cry of pain from the harnessed dog, and
Rainy-Moon with a yell stood erect to find himself gazing into the
muzzle of the revolver. The expression of the trapper's face was
relentless now. His first shot had been fired under the influence of
excitement, and he had missed his object and only wounded the dog. Now
it was different.

Again the pistol rang out. Rainy-Moon gave one sharp cry of pain and
sprang backwards--into space. In one hand he still gripped the leashes
of the dogs. The other clutched wildly at the air. For one instant his
fall was broken by his hold upon the four dogs, then the suddenness of
his precipitation and his weight told, and the poor beasts were
dragged over the side of the chasm after him.

The whole dastardly act was but the work of a moment.

The next all was silence save for the yelping of the wounded dog lying
upon the snow.

The trapper stood for a moment framed in the doorway. The horror of
his crime was upon him. He waited for a sound to come up to him from
below. He longed to, but he dared not, look over the side of the
yawning chasm. He feared what awful sight his eyes might encounter.
His imagination conjured up pictures that turned him sick in the
stomach, and a great dread came over him. Suddenly he turned back into
the hut and slammed the door.

The wounded dog had not changed its attitude. The moments sped by.
Suddenly the poor beast began to struggle violently. It was a huge
specimen of the husky breed, exceptionally powerful and wolfish in its
appearance. The wretched brute moaned incessantly, but its pain only
made it struggle the harder to free itself from its harness. At length
it succeeded in wriggling out of the primitive "breast-draw" which
held it. Then the suffering beast limped painfully away down the path.
Fifty yards from the hut it squatted upon its haunches and began to
lick its wounded foot. And every now and then it would cease its
healing operation to throw up its long muzzle and emit one of those
drawn-out howls, so dismal and dispiriting, in which dogs are able to
express their melancholy feelings.

At length the hut door opened again and the trapper came out; he was
equipped for a long journey. Thick blanket chaps covered his legs, and
a great fur coat reached to his knees. His head was buried beneath a
beaver cap, which, pressed low dow