vil one which lures them to their doom.
Else why should Dusty Star swerve suddenly to the right along a new
trail, and in doing so turn to look behind? The next moment, he had
caught his foot against a projecting root, and was down.

He was on his feet in an instant; but the fall had lessened his
breathing power, and when he started to run again, it was plain that he
was losing ground.

With savage whoops of triumph, his pursuers came bounding on.

With a feeling of wild despair. Dusty Star gathered himself together for
a final effort. As he made it, he cried aloud. It was a strange sort of
bark, half-human, half-wolf. If any wolf-ear happened to catch it, the
hearer would recognize it as a call for help. But although Dusty Star
threw all his voice into that last despairing cry, it seemed to be
muffled by the forest till it died in the throat of its glooms.

The Indians were very close upon him now. Only the humming of the blood
in his ears deadened the soft padding sound of their moccasins as they
ran.

But now, at the very last, there swims into Dusty Star's sight a
confused vision. It comes at a tremendous pace. Its running is that of a
wolf at full speed, the body low along the ground. The strong,
deeply-padded feet spurn the ground from under them with bounds that are
like blows. The eyes burn like green fires. There is a wild glare in
them, of rage goaded to madness. All the fury of the forest is in that
grey running with the eyes that burn.

Dusty Star, dazed with exhaustion did not immediately realize what the
creature was, until it leaped upon him, and he fell.

The Indians saw a huge grey wolf which seemed to be pulling their prey
down before they could reach it. They gave tongue to a savage yell, and
bore down upon the wolf.

However terrifying an Indian war-whoop is to human ears, it produced a
contrary effect on the animal mounting guard over Dusty Star. Before the
foremost red-skin was within half-a-dozen yards of the spot, the
crouching, snarling Fury unbent like mighty springs of its hind
quarters. Like a battering-ram, all the 150-lb weight of Kiopo's body
drove against the Indian's chest. He went down with a cry. The Indian
immediately behind him, realizing the danger when too late, sprang
aside. But Kiopo was too quick for him. There was a leap, a flash of
fangs, and he shared the fate of the leader.

What followed took place almost more quickly than it can be described.
The Indians, findin