THE SHE-WOLF

Breakfast eaten and the slim camp-outfit lashed to the sled, the menrnturned their backs on the cheery fire and launched out into therndarkness. At once began to rise the cries that were fiercely sad—criesrnthat called through the darkness and cold to one another and answeredrnback. Conversation ceased. Daylight came at nine o’clock. At midday thernsky to the south warmed to rose-colour, and marked where the bulge ofrnthe earth intervened between the meridian sun and the northern world.rnBut the rose-colour swiftly faded. The grey light of day that remainedrnlasted until three o’clock, when it, too, faded, and the pall of thernArctic night descended upon the lone and silent land.rnrnAs darkness came on, the hunting-cries to right and left and rear drewrncloser—so close that more than once they sent surges of fear throughrnthe toiling dogs, throwing them into short-lived panics.rnrnAt the conclusion of one such panic, when he and Henry had got the dogsrnback in the traces, Bill said:rnrn“I wisht they’d strike game somewheres, an’ go away an’ leave usrnalone.”rnrn“They do get on the nerves horrible,” Henry sympathised.rnrnThey spoke no more until camp was made.rnrnHenry was bending over and adding ice to the babbling pot of beans whenrnhe was startled by the sound of a blow, an exclamation from Bill, and arnsharp snarling cry of pain from among the dogs. He straightened up inrntime to see a dim form disappearing across the snow into the shelter ofrnthe dark. Then he saw Bill, standing amid the dogs, half triumphant,rnhalf crestfallen, in one hand a stout club, in the other the tail andrnpart of the body of a sun-cured salmon.rnrn“It got half of it,” he announced; “but I got a whack at it jes’ thernsame. D’ye hear it squeal?”rnrn“What’d it look like?” Henry asked.rnrn“Couldn’t see. But it had four legs an’ a mouth an’ hair an’ lookedrnlike any dog.”rnrn“Must be a tame wolf, I reckon.”rnrn“It’s damned tame, whatever it is, comin’ in here at feedin’ time an’rngettin’ its whack of fish.”rnrnThat night, when supper was finished and they sat on the oblong box andrnpulled at their pipes, the circle of gleaming eyes drew in even closerrnthan before.rnrn“I wisht they’d spring up a bunch of moose or something, an’ go awayrnan’ leave us alone,” Bill said.rnrnHenry grunted with an intonation that was not all sympathy, and for arnquarter of an hour they sat on in silence, Henry staring at the fire,rnand Bill at the circle of eyes that burned in the darkness just beyondrnthe firelight.rnrn“I wisht we was pullin’ into McGurry right now,” he began again.rnrn“Shut up your wishin’ and your croakin’,” Henry burst out angrily.“Your stomach’s sour. That’s what’s ailin’ you. Swallow a spoonful ofrnsody, an’ you’ll sweeten up wonderful an’ be more pleasant company.”rnrnIn the morning Henry was aroused by fervid blasphemy that proceededrnfrom the mouth of Bill. Henry propped himself up on an elbow and lookedrnto see his comrade standing among the dogs beside the replenished fire,rnhis arms raised in objurgation, his face distorted with passion.rnrn“Hello!” Henry called. “What’s up now?”rnrn“Frog’s gone,” came the answer.rnrn“No.”rnrn“I tell you yes.”rnrnHenry leaped out of the blankets and to the dogs. He counted them withrncare, and then joined his partner in cursing the power of the Wild thatrnhad robbed them of another dog.rnrn“Frog was the strongest dog of the bunch,” Bill pronounced finally.rnrn“An’ he was no fool dog neither,” Henry added.rnrnAnd so was recorded the second epitaph in two days.rnrnA gloomy breakfast was eaten, and the four remaining dogs werernharnessed to the sled. The day was a repetition of the days that hadrngone before. The men toiled without speech across the face of thernfrozen world. The silence was unbroken save by the cries of theirrnpursuers, that, unseen, hung upon their rear. With the coming of nightrnin the mid-afternoon, the cries sounded closer as the pursuers drew inrnaccording to their custom; and the dogs grew excited and frightened,rnand were guilty of panics that tangled the traces and further depressedrnthe two men.rnrn“There, that’ll fix you fool critters,” Bill said with satisfactionrnthat night, standing erect at completion of his task.rnrnHenry left the cooking to come and see. Not only had his partner tiedrnthe dogs up, but he had tied them, after the Indian fashion, withrnsticks. About the neck of each dog he had fastened a leather thong. Tornthis, and so close to the neck that the dog could not get his teeth tornit, he had tied a stout stick four or five feet in length. The otherrnend of the stick, in turn, was made fast to a stake in the ground byrnmeans of a leather thong. The dog was unable to gnaw through thernleather at his own end of the stick. The stick prevented him fromrngetting at the leather that fastened the other end.rnrnHenry nodded his head approvingly.rnrn“It’s the only contraption that’ll ever hold One Ear,” he said. “He canrngnaw through leather as clean as a knife an’ jes’ about half as quick.rnThey all’ll be here in the mornin’ hunkydory.”rnrn“You jes’ bet they will,” Bill affirmed. “If one of em’ turns uprnmissin’, I’ll go without my coffee.”rnrn“They jes’ know we ain’t loaded to kill,” Henry remarked at bed-time,rnindicating the gleaming circle that hemmed them in. “If we could put arncouple of shots into ’em, they’d be more respectful. They come closerrnevery night. Get the firelight out of your eyes an’ look hard—there!rnDid you see that one?”rnrnFor some time the two men amused themselves with watching the movementrnof vague forms on the edge of the firelight. By looking closely andrnsteadily at where a pair of eyes burned in the darkness, the form ofrnthe animal would slowly take shape. They could even see these formsrnmove at times.rnrnA sound among the dogs attracted the men’s attention. One Ear wasrnuttering quick, eager whines, lunging at the length of his stick towardrnthe darkness, and desisting now and again in order to make franticrnattacks on the stick with his teeth.rnrn“Look at that, Bill,” Henry whispered.rnrnFull into the firelight, with a stealthy, sidelong movement, glided arndoglike animal. It moved with commingled mistrust and daring,rncautiously observing the men, its attention fixed on the dogs. One Earrnstrained the full length of the stick toward the intruder and whinedrnwith eagerness.rnrn“That fool One Ear don’t seem scairt much,” Bill said in a low tone.rnrn“It’s a she-wolf,” Henry whispered back, “an’ that accounts for Fattyrnan’ Frog. She’s the decoy for the pack. She draws out the dog an’ thenrnall the rest pitches in an’ eats ’m up.”rnrnThe fire crackled. A log fell apart with a loud spluttering noise. Atrnthe sound of it the strange animal leaped back into the darkness.rnrn“Henry, I’m a-thinkin’,” Bill announced.rnrn“Thinkin’ what?”rnrn“I’m a-thinkin’ that was the one I lambasted with the club.”rnrn“Ain’t the slightest doubt in the world,” was Henry’s response.rnrn“An’ right here I want to remark,” Bill went on, “that that animal’srnfamilyarity with campfires is suspicious an’ immoral.”rnrn“It knows for certain more’n a self-respectin’ wolf ought to know,”rnHenry agreed. “A wolf that knows enough to come in with the dogs atrnfeedin’ time has had experiences.”rnrn“Ol’ Villan had a dog once that run away with the wolves,” Billrncogitates aloud. “I ought to know. I shot it out of the pack in a moosernpasture over ‘on Little Stick. An’ Ol’ Villan cried like a baby. Hadn’trnseen it for three years, he said. Ben with the wolves all that time.”rnrn“I reckon you’ve called the turn, Bill. That wolf’s a dog, an’ it’srneaten fish many’s the time from the hand of man.”rnrn“An if I get a chance at it, that wolf that’s a dog’ll be jes’ meat,”rnBill declared. “We can’t afford to lose no more animals.”rnrn“But you’ve only got three cartridges,” Henry objected.rnrn“I’ll wait for a dead sure shot,” was the reply.rnrnIn the morning Henry renewed the fire and cooked breakfast to thernaccompaniment of his partner’s snoring.rnrn“You was sleepin’ jes’ too comfortable for anything,” Henry told him,rnas he routed him out for breakfast. “I hadn’t the heart to rouse you.”rnrnBill began to eat sleepily. He noticed that his cup was empty andrnstarted to reach for the pot. But the pot was beyond arm’s length andrnbeside Henry.rnrn“Say, Henry,” he chided gently, “ain’t you forgot somethin’?”rnrnHenry looked about with great carefulness and shook his head. Bill heldrnup the empty cup.rnrn“You don’t get no coffee,” Henry announced.rnrn“Ain’t run out?” Bill asked anxiously.rnrn“Nope.”rnrn“Ain’t thinkin’ it’ll hurt my digestion?”rnrn“Nope.”rnrnA flush of angry blood pervaded Bill’s face.rnrn“Then it’s jes’ warm an’ anxious I am to be hearin’ you explainrnyourself,” he said.rnrn“Spanker’s gone,” Henry answered.rnrnWithout haste, with the air of one resigned to misfortune Bill turnedrnhis head, and from where he sat counted the dogs.rnrn“How’d it happen?” he asked apathetically.rnrnHenry shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. Unless One Ear gnawed ’mrnloose. He couldn’t a-done it himself, that’s sure.”rnrn“The darned cuss.” Bill spoke gravely and slowly, with no hint of thernanger that was raging within. “Jes’ because he couldn’t chew himselfrnloose, he chews Spanker loose.”rnrn“Well, Spanker’s troubles is over anyway; I guess he’s digested by thisrntime an’ cavortin’ over the landscape in the bellies of twentyrndifferent wolves,” was Henry’s epitaph on this, the latest lost dog.“Have some coffee, Bill.”rnrnBut Bill shook his head.rnrn“Go on,” Henry pleaded, elevating the pot.rnrnBill shoved his cup aside. “I’ll be ding-dong-danged if I do. I said Irnwouldn’t if ary dog turned up missin’, an’ I won’t.”rnrn“It’s darn good coffee,” Henry said enticingly.rnrnBut Bill was stubborn, and he ate a dry breakfast washed down withrnmumbled curses at One Ear for the trick he had played.rnrn“I’ll tie ’em up out of reach of each other to-night,” Bill said, asrnthey took the trail.rnrnThey had travelled little more than a hundred yards, when Henry, whornwas in front, bent down and picked up something with which his snowshoernhad collided. It was dark, and he could not see it, but he recognisedrnit by the touch. He flung it back, so that it struck the sled andrnbounced along until it fetched up on Bill’s snowshoes.rnrn“Mebbe you’ll need that in your business,” Henry said.rnrnBill uttered an exclamation. It was all that was left of Spanker—thernstick with which he had been tied.rnrn“They ate ’m hide an’ all,” Bill announced. “The stick’s as clean as arnwhistle. They’ve ate the leather offen both ends. They’re damn hungry,rnHenry, an’ they’ll have you an’ me guessin’ before this trip’s over.”rnrnHenry laughed defiantly. “I ain’t been trailed this way by wolvesrnbefore, but I’ve gone through a whole lot worse an’ kept my health.rnTakes more’n a handful of them pesky critters to do for yours truly,rnBill, my son.”rnrn“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Bill muttered ominously.rnrn“Well, you’ll know all right when we pull into McGurry.”rnrn“I ain’t feelin’ special enthusiastic,” Bill persisted.rnrn“You’re off colour, that’s what’s the matter with you,” Henryrndogmatised. “What you need is quinine, an’ I’m goin’ to dose you uprnstiff as soon as we make McGurry.”rnrnBill grunted his disagreement with the diagnosis, and lapsed intornsilence. The day was like all the days. Light came at nine o’clock. Atrntwelve o’clock the southern horizon was warmed by the unseen sun; andrnthen began the cold grey of afternoon that would merge, three hoursrnlater, into night.rnrnIt was just after the sun’s futile effort to appear, that Bill slippedrnthe rifle from under the sled-lashings and said:rnrn“You keep right on, Henry, I’m goin’ to see what I can see.”rnrn“You’d better stick by the sled,” his partner protested. “You’ve onlyrngot three cartridges, an’ there’s no tellin’ what might happen.”rnrn“Who’s croaking now?” Bill demanded triumphantly.rnrnHenry made no reply, and plodded on alone, though often he cast anxiousrnglances back into the grey solitude where his partner had disappeared.rnAn hour later, taking advantage of the cut-offs around which the sledrnhad to go, Bill arrived.rnrn“They’re scattered an’ rangin’ along wide,” he said: “keeping up withrnus an’ lookin’ for game at the same time. You see, they’re sure of us,rnonly they know they’ve got to wait to get us. In the meantime they’rernwillin’ to pick up anything eatable that comes handy.”rnrn“You mean they _think_ they’re sure of us,” Henry objected pointedly.rnrnBut Bill ignored him. “I seen some of them. They’re pretty thin. Theyrnain’t had a bite in weeks I reckon, outside of Fatty an’ Frog an’rnSpanker; an’ there’s so many of ’em that that didn’t go far. They’rernremarkable thin. Their ribs is like wash-boards, an’ their stomachs isrnright up against their backbones. They’re pretty desperate, I can tellrnyou. They’ll be goin’ mad, yet, an’ then watch out.”rnrnA few minutes later, Henry, who was now travelling behind the sled,rnemitted a low, warning whistle. Bill turned and looked, then quietlyrnstopped the dogs. To the rear, from around the last bend and plainlyrninto view, on the very trail they had just covered, trotted a furry,rnslinking form. Its nose was to the trail, and it trotted with arnpeculiar, sliding, effortless gait. When they halted, it halted,rnthrowing up its head and regarding them steadily with nostrils thatrntwitched as it caught and studied the scent of them.rnrn“It’s the she-wolf,” Bill answered.rnrnThe dogs had lain down in the snow, and he walked past them to join hisrnpartner in the sled. Together they watched the strange animal that hadrnpursued them for days and that had already accomplished the destructionrnof half their dog-team.rnrnAfter a searching scrutiny, the animal trotted forward a few steps.rnThis it repeated several times, till it was a short hundred yards away.rnIt paused, head up, close by a clump of spruce trees, and with sightrnand scent studied the outfit of the watching men. It looked at them inrna strangely wistful way, after the manner of a dog; but in itsrnwistfulness there was none of the dog affection. It was a wistfulnessrnbred of hunger, as cruel as its own fangs, as merciless as the frostrnitself.rnrnIt was large for a wolf, its gaunt frame advertising the lines of anrnanimal that was among the largest of its kind.rnrn“Stands pretty close to two feet an’ a half at the shoulders,” Henryrncommented. “An’ I’ll bet it ain’t far from five feet long.”rnrn“Kind of strange colour for a wolf,” was Bill’s criticism. “I neverrnseen a red wolf before. Looks almost cinnamon to me.”rnrnThe animal was certainly not cinnamon-coloured. Its coat was the truernwolf-coat. The dominant colour was grey, and yet there was to it arnfaint reddish hue—a hue that was baffling, that appeared andrndisappeared, that was more like an illusion of the vision, now grey,rndistinctly grey, and again giving hints and glints of a vague rednessrnof colour not classifiable in terms of ordinary experience.rnrn“Looks for all the world like a big husky sled-dog,” Bill said. “Irnwouldn’t be s’prised to see it wag its tail.”rnrn“Hello, you husky!” he called. “Come here, you whatever-your-name-is.”rnrn“Ain’t a bit scairt of you,” Henry laughed.rnrnBill waved his hand at it threateningly and shouted loudly; but thernanimal betrayed no fear. The only change in it that they could noticernwas an accession of alertness. It still regarded them with thernmerciless wistfulness of hunger. They were meat, and it was hungry; andrnit would like to go in and eat them if it dared.rnrn“Look here, Henry,” Bill said, unconsciously lowering his voice to arnwhisper because of what he imitated. “We’ve got three cartridges. Butrnit’s a dead shot. Couldn’t miss it. It’s got away with three of ourrndogs, an’ we oughter put a stop to it. What d’ye say?”rnrnHenry nodded his consent. Bill cautiously slipped the gun from underrnthe sled-lashing. The gun was on the way to his shoulder, but it neverrngot there. For in that instant the she-wolf leaped sidewise from therntrail into the clump of spruce trees and disappeared.rnrnThe two men looked at each other. Henry whistled long andrncomprehendingly.rnrn“I might have knowed it,” Bill chided himself aloud as he replaced therngun. “Of course a wolf that knows enough to come in with the dogs atrnfeedin’ time, ’d know all about shooting-irons. I tell you right now,rnHenry, that critter’s the cause of all our trouble. We’d have six dogsrnat the present time, ’stead of three, if it wasn’t for her. An’ I tellrnyou right now, Henry, I’m goin’ to get her. She’s too smart to be shotrnin the open. But I’m goin’ to lay for her. I’ll bushwhack her as surernas my name is Bill.”rnrn“You needn’t stray off too far in doin’ it,” his partner admonished.“If that pack ever starts to jump you, them three cartridges’d be wuthrnno more’n three whoops in hell. Them animals is damn hungry, an’ oncernthey start in, they’ll sure get you, Bill.”rnrnThey camped early that night. Three dogs could not drag the sled sornfast nor for so long hours as could six, and they were showingrnunmistakable signs of playing out. And the men went early to bed, Billrnfirst seeing to it that the dogs were tied out of gnawing-reach of onernanother.rnrnBut the wolves were growing bolder, and the men were aroused more thanrnonce from their sleep. So near did the wolves approach, that the dogsrnbecame frantic with terror, and it was necessary to replenish the firernfrom time to time in order to keep the adventurous marauders at saferrndistance.rnrn“I’ve hearn sailors talk of sharks followin’ a ship,” Bill remarked, asrnhe crawled back into the blankets after one such replenishing of thernfire. “Well, them wolves is land sharks. They know their businessrnbetter’n we do, an’ they ain’t a-holdin’ our trail this way for theirrnhealth. They’re goin’ to get us. They’re sure goin’ to get us, Henry.”rnrn“They’ve half got you a’ready, a-talkin’ like that,” Henry retortedrnsharply. “A man’s half licked when he says he is. An’ you’re half eatenrnfrom the way you’re goin’ on about it.”rnrn“They’ve got away with better men than you an’ me,” Bill answered.rnrn“Oh, shet up your croakin’. You make me all-fired tired.”rnrnHenry rolled over angrily on his side, but was surprised that Bill madernno similar display of temper. This was not Bill’s way, for he wasrneasily angered by sharp words. Henry thought long over it before hernwent to sleep, and as his eyelids fluttered down and he dozed off, thernthought in his mind was: “There’s no mistakin’ it, Bill’s almightyrnblue. I’ll have to cheer him up to-morrow.”