ous impression. He
gripped his weapon and sprang among the fighting pack, which ripped and
dragged at the carcass of the dead wolf.

Right and left he struck in a reckless fume of ferocity, which spoke of
unreasoning fights in worlds of savage firstlings. And under the
smashing blows of the axe wolves went down--skulls split, spines
crushed, ribs caved in--a side at a stroke, and shoulders were cloven
clean and deep to pink sponge lungs.

As if realizing that her hurt was mortal, the great she-wolf abandoned
her attack on the knife-haft and, summoning her strength for a supreme
effort, sprang straight into the midst of the red shambles.

The man, caught unawares, went down under the impact of her body. For
one fleeting second he stared upward into blazing eyes. From between
wide-sprung rows of flashing fangs the blood-dripping tongue seemed to
writhe from the cavernous throat, and the foul breath blew hot against
his face. Instantly his strong fingers buried themselves in the shaggy
fur close under the hinge of the jaw, while his other hand closed about
the dented brass of the protruding knife-hilt.

With the whole strength of his arm he held the savage jaws from his
face as he wrenched and twisted at the firmly embedded knife. Finally
it loosened, and as the thick-backed blade was withdrawn from the wound
it was followed by spurt after spurt of blood--bright, frothy blood,
straight from the lungs, which gushed hot and wet over him.

Blindly he struck; stabbing, thrusting, slashing at the great form
which was pressing him deeper and deeper into the snow. Again and again
the knife was turned against rib and shoulder-blade, inflicting only
shallow surface wounds.

At length a heavy, straight upthrust encountered no obstacle of bone,
and the blade bit deep and deeper into living flesh.

As with a final effort the knife was driven home, a convulsive shiver
racked the body of the great white wolf, and with a low, gurgling moan
of agony her jaws set rigid, her muscles stiffened, and she toppled
sidewise into the snow, where she lay twitching spasmodically with
glazing eyes.

Bill staggered weakly to his feet.

The uninjured wolves had vanished, leaving their dead upon the snow,
while the wounded left flat, red trails as they sought to drag their
broken bodies to the cover of the forest.

Irish Fallon rounded a turn of the tote-road. He brought up sharply and
stared open-mouthed at the man who, sheath-knife in hand