n), with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, gradually came up.
After each hasty look, the deer redoubled its efforts to escape, but,
either exhausted by fatigue or enervated by fear, it became, just before
it was overtaken, scarcely able to keep its feet.

Captain Lyon gives some interesting illustrations of the habits of the
wolves of Melville Peninsula, which were sadly destructive to his dogs.
"A fine dog was lost in the afternoon. It had strayed to the hummocks
ahead, without its master; and Mr. Elder, who was near the spot, saw
five wolves rush at, attack, and devour it, in an incredibly short space
of time: before he could reach the place, the carcass was torn in
pieces, and he found only the lower part of one leg. The boldness of the
wolves was altogether astonishing, as they were almost constantly seen
among the hummocks, or lying quietly, at no great distance, in wait for
the dogs. From all we observed, I have no reason to suppose that they
would attack a single unarmed man, both English and Esquimaux frequently
passing them, without a stick in their hands. The animals, however,
exhibited no symptoms of fear, but rather a kind of tacit agreement not
to be the beginners of a quarrel, even though they might have been
certain of proving victorious."[5] Another time, when pressed by hunger,
the wolves broke into a snow-hut, in which were a couple of
newly-purchased Esquimaux dogs, and carried the poor animals off, but
not without some difficulty; for even the ceiling of the hut was next
morning found sprinkled with blood and hair. When the alarm was given,
and the wolves were fired at, one of them was observed carrying a dead
dog in his mouth, clear of the ground, and going, with ease, at a
canter, notwithstanding the animal was of his own weight. It was curious
to observe the fear these dogs seemed, at times, to entertain of wolves.

During Sir John Richardson's residence at Cumberland-house, in 1820, a
wolf, which had been prowling round the fort, was wounded by a
musket-ball, and driven off, but returned after dark, while the blood
was still flowing from its wound, and carried off a dog from among fifty
others, that had not the courage to unite in an attack on their enemy.
The same writer says, that he has frequently observed an Indian dog,
after being worsted in combat with a black wolf, retreat into a corner,
and howl, at intervals, for an hour together; these Indian dogs, also,
howl piteously when apprehens