inst him.

But his master had said to mush on, in words of great emphasis; so
he crushed back all the battle-fury in his pounding heart, and
mushed as he had never mushed before.

There was a pause, as the wolves stopped, and rifled the sledge-pack
--a brief pause filled with horrid snarls and yelps. Then, the
steady, resonant baying again, louder and more triumphant, seemingly
at the very heels of the fugitives. A hundred yards away the woods
stood, impersonal witnesses of the struggle; three hundred yards
behind, the leader of the pack fixed his gleaming green eye upon
the quarry, and let out the last link in his tireless muscles.

Donald realized now what he had feared for the last half-mile--that,
even were the woods reached safely, to build a fire would be out
of the question. It must be a fight to the death, and he could
foresee but one result. For himself, he did not mind. He had brushed
with death too many times to fear its coming. But Jean! What terror
must be hers, to whom the bitter truths of the forest trails were
new! He only hoped she did not remember that wolves tear before
they kill.

Drawing his revolver, he handed it to her, and she, without a
second's wait, turned round, and fired into the thick pack. She
was a good shot, and every bullet told. At the same time, Donald
lifted his rifle, and pumped five smoking shells while he ran,
pulling the trigger as fast as he could, and firing into the air,
since he dared not turn.

Now, they had gained the forest, and Mistisi, responding to the
cry of "chaw," swerved to the right into the shelter of a breastwork
of underbrush. In a few seconds, with the brush behind them, and
the upturned sledge before, they awaited the attack.

Round the point of the cover rushed the leaders, and two fell
snarling beneath the mass of those that followed. In the struggle
over the bodies, others fell, but the main pack swerved wide, and
commenced their circling attack.

[Illustration: In the struggle over the bodies, others fell, but
the main pack swerved wide, and commenced their circling attack.]

"Donald, my revolver is empty," suddenly cried Jean.

"Cartridges in my left pocket," cried the man, and the girl, with
trembling fingers, reloaded the weapon, while the man held the
brutes at bay.

Suddenly, from the left, a dark form shot into the air. McTavish
ducked, and the wolf passed over him. But Mistisi, all his pent-up
fury released, rose on his hind legs, his