ever, he was an elemental creature, battling
with the elements for his life. And he knew, moreover, that of all
possible restoratives, the best was at his hand. He drove his blade
again, this time to the bull's heart. As the wild life sighed itself
out, and vanished, Pete crouched down like an animal, and drank the
warm, red fluid streaming from the victim's throat. As he did so, the
ebbed tide of warmth, power, and mastery flooded back into his own
veins. He drank his fill; then, burrowing half beneath the massive
body, he lay down close against it to rest and consider.

Assured now of food to sustain him on the journey, assured of his own
ability to master all other obstacles that might seek to withstand
him, Pete Noel made up his mind to sleep, wrapping himself in his
blankets under the shelter of the dead bull. Then the old hunter's
instinct began to stir. All about him, in every momentary lull of the
wind, were snortings and heavy breathings. He had wandered into the
midst of the exhausted herd. Here was a chance to recoup himself, in
some small part, for the loss of his cabin and supplies. He could kill
a few of the helpless animals, hide them in the snow, and take the
bearings of the spot as soon as the weather cleared. By and by he
could get a team from the nearest settlement, and haul out the frozen
meat for private sale when the game warden chanced to have his eyes
shut.

[Illustration: "One of these monstrous shapes neglected to vanish."]

Getting out his knife again, he crept stealthily toward the
nearest heavy breathing. Before he could detect the beast in that
tumultuous gloom, he was upon it. His outstretched left hand fell
upon a wildly heaving flank. The frightened animal arose with a
gasping snort, and tried to escape; but utterly exhausted, it sank
down again almost immediately, resigned to this unknown doom which
stole upon it out of the tempest and the dark. Pete's hand was on
it again the moment it was still. He felt it quiver and shrink
beneath his touch. Instinctively he began to stroke and rub the
stiff hair as he slipped his treacherous hand forward along the
heaving flank. The heavings grew quieter, the frightened snortings
ceased. The exhausted animal seemed to feel a reassurance in that
strong, quiet touch.

When Pete's hand had reached the unresisting beast's neck, he began to
feel a qualm of misgiving. His knife was in the other hand, ready for
use there in the howling dark; but someh