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staring hungrily at him or calmly sleeping in the snow. They reminded him of
children gathered about a spread table and awaiting permission to begin to
eat. And he was the food they were to eat! He wondered how and when the meal
would begin.
As he piled wood on the fire he discovered an appreciation of his own body
which he had never felt before. He watched his moving muscles and was
interested in the cunning mechanism of his fingers. By the light of the fire
he crooked his fingers slowly and repeatedly, now one at a time, now all
together, spreading them wide or making quick gripping movements. He studied
the nail-formation, and prodded the finger-tips, now sharply, and again
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softly, gauging the while the nerve-sensations produced. It fascinated him,
and he grew suddenly fond of this subtle flesh of his that worked so
beautifully and smoothly and delicately. Then he would cast a glance of fear
at the wolf-circle drawn expectantly about him, and like a blow the
realization would strike him that this wonderful body of his, this living
flesh, was no more than so much meat, a quest of ravenous animals, to be torn
and slashed by their hungry fangs, to be sustenance to them as the moose and
the rabbit had often been sustenance to him.
He came out of a doze that was half nightmare, to see the red-hued she-wolf
before him. She was not more than half a dozen feet away, sitting in the snow
and wistfully regarding him. The two dogs were whimpering and snarling at his
feet, but she took no notice of them. She was looking at the man, and for some
time he returned her look. There was nothing threatening about her. She looked
at him merely with a great wistfulness, but he knew it to be the wistfulness
of an equally great hunger. He was the food, and the sight of him excited in
her the gustatory sensations. Her mouth opened, the saliva drooled forth, and
she licked her chops with the pleasure of anticipation.
A spasm of fear went through him. He reached hastily for a brand to throw at
her. But even as he reached, and before his fingers had closed on the missile,
she sprang back into safety; and he knew that she was used to having things
thrown at her. She had snarled as she sprang away, baring her white fangs to
their roots, all her wistfulness vanishing, being replaced by a carnivorous
malignity that made him shudder. He glanced at the hand that held the brand,
noticing the cunning delicacy of the fingers that gripped it, how they
adjusted themselves to all the inequalities of the surface, curling over and
under and about the rough wood, and one little finger, too close to the
burning portion of the brand, sensitively and automatically writhing back from
the hurtful heat to a cooler gripping-place; and in the same instant he seemed
to see a vision of those same sensitive and delicate fingers being crushed and
torn by the white teeth of the she-wolf. Never had he been so fond of this
body of his as now when his tenure of it was so precarious.
All night, with burning brands, he fought off the hungry pack. When he dozed
despite himself, the whimpering and snarling of the dogs aroused him. Morning
came, but for the first time the light of day failed to scatter the wolves.
The man waited in vain for them to go. They remained in a circle about him and
his fire, displaying an arrogance of possession that shook his courage born of
the morning light.
He made one desperate attempt to pull out on the trail. But the moment he
left the protection of the fire, the boldest wolf leaped for him, but leaped
short. He saved himself by springing back, the jaws snapping together a scant
six inches from his thigh. The rest of the pack was now up and surging upon
him, and a throwing of firebrands right and left was necessary to drive them
back to a respectful distance.
Even in the daylight he did not dare leave the fire to chop fresh wood.
Twenty feet away towered a huge dead spruce. He spent half the day extending
his campfire to the tree, at any moment a half dozen burning fagots ready at
hand to fling at his enemies. Once at the tree, he studied the surrounding
forest in order to fell the tree in the direction of the most firewood.
The night was a repetition of the night before, save that the need for sleep
was becoming overpowering. The snarling of his dogs was losing its efficacy.
Besides, they were snarling all the time, and his benumbed and drowsy senses
no longer took note of changing pitch and intensity. He awoke with a start.
The she-wolf was less than a yard from him. Mechanically, at short range,
without letting go of it, he thrust a brand full into her open and snarling
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mouth. She sprang away, yelling with pain, and while he took delight in the
smell of burning flesh and hair, he watched her shaking her head and growling
wrathfully a score of feet away.
But this time, before he dozed again, he tied a burning pine-knot to his
right hand. His eyes were closed but a few minutes when the burn of the flame
on his flesh awakened him. For several hours he adhered to this programme.
Every time he was thus awakened he drove back the wolves with flying brands,
replenished the fire, and rearranged the pine-knot on his hand. All worked
well, but there came a time when he fastened the pine-knot insecurely. As his
eyes closed it fell away from his hand.
He dreamed. It seemed to him that he was in Fort McGurry. It was warm and
comfortable, and he was playing cribbage with the Factor. Also, it seemed to
him that the fort was besieged by wolves. They were howling at the very gates,
and sometimes he and the Factor paused from the game to listen and laugh at
the futile efforts of the wolves to get in. And then, so strange was the
dream, there was a crash. The door was burst open. He could see the wolves
flooding into the big living-room of the fort. They were leaping straight for
him and the Factor. With the bursting open of the door, the noise of their
howling had increased tremendously. This howling now bothered him. His dream
was merging into something else he knew not what; but through it all,
following him, persisted the howling.
And then he awoke to find the howling real. There was a great snarling and
yelping. The wolves were rushing him. They were all about him and upon him.
The teeth of one had closed upon his arm. Instinctively he leaped into the
fire, and as he leaped, he felt the sharp slash of teeth that tore through the
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