The day began auspiciously. They had lost no dogs during the night,and they swung out upon the trail and into the silence, the darkness, andthe cold with spirits that were fairly light. Bill seemed to have forgottenhis forebodings of the previous night, and even waxed facetious with thedogs when, at midday, they overturned the sled on a bad piece of trail.

　　It was an awkward mix-up. The sled was upside down and jammedbetween a tree-trunk and a huge rock, and they were forced to unharnessthe dogs in order to straighten out the tangle. The two men were bent overthe sled and trying to right it, when Henry observed One Ear sidling away.

　　"Here, you, One Ear!" he cried, straightening up and turning around onthe dog.

　　But One Ear broke into a run across the snow, his traces trailingbehind him. And there, out in the snow of their back track, was the she-wolf waiting for him. As he neared her, he became suddenly cautious. Heslowed down to an alert and mincing walk and then stopped. He regardedher carefully and dubiously, yet desirefully. She seemed to smile at him,showing her teeth in an ingratiating rather than a menacing way. Shemoved toward him a few steps, playfully, and then halted. One Ear drewnear to her, still alert and cautious, his tail and ears in the air, his head heldhigh.

　　He tried to sniff noses with her, but she retreated playfully and coyly.

　　Every advance on his part was accompanied by a corresponding retreat onher part. Step by step she was luring him away from the security of hishuman companionship. Once, as though a warning had in vague waysflitted through his intelligence, he turned his head and looked back at theoverturned sled, at his team-mates, and at the two men who were calling tohim.

　　But whatever idea was forming in his mind, was dissipated by the she-wolf, who advanced upon him, sniffed noses with him for a fleetinginstant, and then resumed her coy retreat before his renewed advances.

　　In the meantime, Bill had bethought himself of the rifle. But it wasjammed beneath the overturned sled, and by the time Henry had helpedhim to right the load, One Ear and the she-wolf were too close togetherand the distance too great to risk a shot.

　　Too late One Ear learned his mistake. Before they saw the cause, thetwo men saw him turn and start to run back toward them. Then,approaching at right angles to the trail and cutting off his retreat they sawa dozen wolves, lean and grey, bounding across the snow. On the instant,the she-wolf's coyness and playfulness disappeared. With a snarl shesprang upon One Ear. He thrust her off with his shoulder, and, his retreatcut off and still intent on regaining the sled, he altered his course in anattempt to circle around to it. More wolves were appearing every momentand joining in the chase. The she-wolf was one leap behind One Ear andholding her own.

　　"Where are you goin'?" Henry suddenly demanded, laying his hand onhis partner's arm.

　　Bill shook it off. "I won't stand it," he said. "They ain't a- goin' to getany more of our dogs if I can help it."Gun in hand, he plunged into the underbrush that lined the side of thetrail. His intention was apparent enough. Taking the sled as the centre ofthe circle that One Ear was making, Bill planned to tap that circle at apoint in advance of the pursuit. With his rifle, in the broad daylight, itmight be possible for him to awe the wolves and save the dog.

　　"Say, Bill!" Henry called after him. "Be careful! Don't take nochances!"Henry sat down on the sled and watched. There was nothing else forhim to do. Bill had already gone from sight; but now and again, appearingand disappearing amongst the underbrush and the scattered clumps ofspruce, could be seen One Ear. Henry judged his case to be hopeless. Thedog was thoroughly alive to its danger, but it was running on the outercircle while the wolf-pack was running on the inner and shorter circle. Itwas vain to think of One Ear so outdistancing his pursuers as to be able tocut across their circle in advance of them and to regain the sled.

　　The different lines were rapidly approaching a point. Somewhere outthere in the snow, screened from his sight by trees and thickets, Henryknew that the wolf-pack, One Ear, and Bill were coming together. All tooquickly, far more quickly than he had expected, it happened. He heard ashot, then two shots, in rapid succession, and he knew that Bill'sammunition was gone. Then he heard a great outcry of snarls and yelps.

　　He recognised One Ear's yell of pain and terror, and he heard a wolf-crythat bespoke a stricken animal. And that was all. The snarls ceased. Theyelping died away. Silence settled down again over the lonely land.

　　He sat for a long while upon the sled. There was no need for him to goand see what had happened. He knew it as though it had taken placebefore his eyes. Once, he roused with a start and hastily got the axe outfrom underneath the lashings. But for some time longer he sat and brooded,the two remaining dogs crouching and trembling at his feet.

　　At last he arose in a weary manner, as though all the resilience hadgone out of his body, and proceeded to fasten the dogs to the sled. Hepassed a rope over his shoulder, a man-trace, and pulled with the dogs. Hedid not go far. At the first hint of darkness he hastened to make a camp,and he saw to it that he had a generous supply of firewood. He fed thedogs, cooked and ate his supper, and made his bed close to the fire.

　　But he was not destined to enjoy that bed. Before his eyes closed thewolves had drawn too near for safety. It no longer required an effort of thevision to see them. They were all about him and the fire, in a narrow circle,and he could see them plainly in the firelight lying down, sitting up,crawling forward on their bellies, or slinking back and forth. They evenslept. Here and there he could see one curled up in the snow like a dog,taking the sleep that was now denied himself.

　　He kept the fire brightly blazing, for he knew that it alone intervenedbetween the flesh of his body and their hungry fangs. His two dogs stayedclose by him, one on either side, leaning against him for protection, cryingand whimpering, and at times snarling desperately when a wolfapproached a little closer than usual. At such moments, when his dogssnarled, the whole circle would be agitated, the wolves coming to theirfeet and pressing tentatively forward, a chorus of snarls and eager yelpsrising about him. Then the circle would lie down again, and here and therea wolf would resume its broken nap.

　　But this circle had a continuous tendency to draw in upon him. Bit bybit, an inch at a time, with here a wolf bellying forward, and there a wolfbellying forward, the circle would narrow until the brutes were almostwithin springing distance. Then he would seize brands from the fire andhurl them into the pack. A hasty drawing back always resulted,accompanied by an yelps and frightened snarls when a well-aimed brandstruck and scorched a too daring animal.

　　Morning found the man haggard and worn, wide-eyed from want ofsleep. He cooked breakfast in the darkness, and at nine o'clock, when, withthe coming of daylight, the wolf-pack drew back, he set about the task hehad planned through the long hours of the night. Chopping down youngsaplings, he made them cross-bars of a scaffold by lashing them high up tothe trunks of standing trees. Using the sled-lashing for a heaving rope, andwith the aid of the dogs, he hoisted the coffin to the top of the scaffold.

　　"They got Bill, an' they may get me, but they'll sure never get you,young man," he said, addressing the dead body in its tree- sepulchre.

　　Then he took the trail, the lightened sled bounding along behind thewilling dogs; for they, too, knew that safety lay open in the gaining of FortMcGurry. The wolves were now more open in their pursuit, trottingsedately behind and ranging along on either side, their red tongues lollingout, their-lean sides showing the udulating ribs with every movement.

　　They were very lean, mere skin-bags stretched over bony frames, withstrings for muscles - so lean that Henry found it in his mind to marvel thatthey still kept their feet and did not collapse forthright in the snow.

　　He did not dare travel until dark. At midday, not only did the sun warmthe southern horizon, but it even thrust its upper rim, pale and golden,above the sky-line. He received it as a sign. The days were growing longer.

　　The sun was returning. But scarcely had the cheer of its light departed,than he went into camp. There were still several hours of grey daylight andsombre twilight, and he utilised them in chopping an enormous supply offire-wood.

　　With night came horror. Not only were the starving wolves growingbolder, but lack of sleep was telling upon Henry. He dozed despite himself,crouching by the fire, the blankets about his shoulders, the axe between hisknees, and on either side a dog pressing close against him. He awoke onceand saw in front of him, not a dozen feet away, a big grey wolf, one of thelargest of the pack. And even as he looked, the brute deliberately stretchedhimself after the manner of a lazy dog, yawning full in his face andlooking upon him with a possessive eye, as if, in truth, he were merely adelayed meal that was soon to be eaten.

　　This certitude was shown by the whole pack. Fully a score he couldcount, staring hungrily at him or calmly sleeping in the snow. Theyreminded him of children gathered about a spread table and awaitingpermission to begin to eat. And he was the food they were to eat! Hewondered how and when the meal would begin.

　　As he piled wood on the fire he discovered an appreciation of his ownbody which he had never felt before. He watched his moving muscles andwas interested in the cunning mechanism of his fingers. By the light of thefire he crooked his fingers slowly and repeatedly now one at a time, nowall together, spreading them wide or making quick gripping movements.

　　He studied the nail-formation, and prodded the finger-tips, now sharply,and again softly, gauging the while the nerve-sensations produced. Itfascinated him, and he grew suddenly fond of this subtle flesh of his thatworked so beautifully and smoothly and delicately. Then he would cast aglance of fear at the wolf-circle drawn expectantly about him, and like ablow the realisation would strike him that this wonderful body of his, thisliving 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 asthe moose and the rabbit had often been sustenance to him.

　　He came out of a doze that was half nightmare, to see the red-huedshe-wolf before him. She was not more than half a dozen feet away sittingin the snow and wistfully regarding him. The two dogs were whimperingand snarling at his feet, but she took no notice of them. She was looking atthe man, and for some time he returned her look. There was nothingthreatening 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 thefood, and the sight of him excited in her the gustatory sensations. Hermouth opened, the saliva drooled forth, and she licked her chops with thepleasure of anticipation.

　　A spasm of fear went through him. He reached hastily for a brand tothrow at her. But even as he reached, and before his fingers had closed onthe missile, she sprang back into safety; and he knew that she was used tohaving things thrown at her. She had snarled as she sprang away, baringher white fangs to their roots, all her wistfulness vanishing, being replacedby a carnivorous malignity that made him shudder. He glanced at the handthat held the brand, noticing the cunning delicacy of the fingers thatgripped it, how they adjusted themselves to all the inequalities of thesurface, curling over and under and about the rough wood, and one littlefinger, too close to the burning portion of the brand, sensitively andautomatically writhing back from the hurtful heat to a cooler gripping-place; and in the same instant he seemed to see a vision of those samesensitive and delicate fingers being crushed and torn by the white teeth ofthe she-wolf. Never had he been so fond of this body of his as now whenhis tenure of it was so precarious.

　　All night, with burning brands, he fought off the hungry pack. Whenhe dozed despite himself, the whimpering and snarling of the dogs arousedhim. Morning came, but for the first time the light of day failed to scatterthe wolves. The man waited in vain for them to go. They remained in acircle about him and his fire, displaying an arrogance of possession thatshook his courage born of the morning light.

　　He made one desperate attempt to pull out on the trail. But the momenthe left the protection of the fire, the boldest wolf leaped for him, butleaped short. He saved himself by springing back, the jaws snappingtogether a scant six inches from his thigh. The rest of the pack was now upand surging upon him, and a throwing of firebrands right and left wasnecessary 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 dayextending his campfire to the tree, at any moment a half dozen burningfaggots ready at hand to fling at his enemies. Once at the tree, he studiedthe surrounding forest in order to fell the tree in the direction of the mostfirewood.

　　The night was a repetition of the night before, save that the need forsleep was becoming overpowering. The snarling of his dogs was losing itsefficacy. Besides, they were snarling all the time, and his benumbed anddrowsy senses no longer took note of changing pitch and intensity. Heawoke 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 fullinto her open and snarling mouth. She sprang away, yelling with pain, andwhile he took delight in the smell of burning flesh and hair, he watchedher 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 hisright hand. His eyes were closed but few minutes when the burn of theflame on his flesh awakened him. For several hours he adhered to thisprogramme. Every time he was thus awakened he drove back the wolveswith flying brands, replenished the fire, and rearranged the pine-knot onhis hand. All worked well, but there came a time when he fastened thepine-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 waswarm and comfortable, and he was playing cribbage with the Factor. Also,it seemed to him that the fort was besieged by wolves. They were howlingat the very gates, and sometimes he and the Factor paused from the gameto listen and laugh at the futile efforts of the wolves to get in. And then, sostrange was the dream, there was a crash. The door was burst open. Hecould see the wolves flooding into the big living-room of the fort. Theywere leaping straight for him and the Factor. With the bursting open of thedoor, the noise of their howling had increased tremendously. This howlingnow bothered him. His dream was merging into something else - he knewnot what; but through it all, following him, persisted the howling.

　　And then he awoke to find the howling real. There was a great snarlingand yelping. The wolves were rushing him. They were all about him andupon him. The teeth of one had closed upon his arm. Instinctively heleaped into the fire, and as he leaped, he felt the sharp slash of teeth thattore through the flesh of his leg. Then began a fire fight. His stout mittenstemporarily protected his hands, and he scooped live coals into the air inall directions, until the campfire took on the semblance of a volcano.

　　But it could not last long. His face was blistering in the heat, hiseyebrows and lashes were singed off, and the heat was becomingunbearable to his feet. With a flaming brand in each hand, he sprang to theedge of the fire. The wolves had been driven back. On every side,wherever the live coals had fallen, the snow was sizzling, and every littlewhile a retiring wolf, with wild leap and snort and snarl, announced thatone such live coal had been stepped upon.

　　Flinging his brands at the nearest of his enemies, the man thrust hissmouldering mittens into the snow and stamped about to cool his feet. Histwo dogs were missing, and he well knew that they had served as a coursein the protracted meal which had begun days before with Fatty, the lastcourse of which would likely be himself in the days to follow "You ain't got me yet!" he cried, savagely shaking his fist at the hungrybeasts; and at the sound of his voice the whole circle was agitated, therewas a general snarl, and the she-wolf slid up close to him across the snowand watched him with hungry wistfulness.

　　He set to work to carry out a new idea that had come to him. Heextended the fire into a large circle. Inside this circle he crouched, hissleeping outfit under him as a protection against the melting snow. Whenhe had thus disappeared within his shelter of flame, the whole pack camecuriously to the rim of the fire to see what had become of him. Hithertothey had been denied access to the fire, and they now settled down in aclose-drawn circle, like so many dogs, blinking and yawning andstretching their lean bodies in the unaccustomed warmth. Then the she-wolf sat down, pointed her nose at a star, and began to howl. One by onethe wolves joined her, till the whole pack, on haunches, with noses pointedskyward, was howling its hunger cry.

　　Dawn came, and daylight. The fire was burning low. The fuel had runout, and there was need to get more. The man attempted to step out of hiscircle of flame, but the wolves surged to meet him. Burning brands madethem spring aside, but they no longer sprang back. In vain he strove todrive them back. As he gave up and stumbled inside his circle, a wolfleaped for him, missed, and landed with all four feet in the coals. It criedout with terror, at the same time snarling, and scrambled back to cool itspaws in the snow.

　　The man sat down on his blankets in a crouching position. His bodyleaned forward from the hips. His shoulders, relaxed and drooping, and hishead on his knees advertised that he had given up the struggle. Now andagain he raised his head to note the dying down of the fire. The circle offlame and coals was breaking into segments with openings in between.

　　These openings grew in size, the segments diminished.

　　"I guess you can come an' get me any time," he mumbled. "Anyway,I'm goin' to sleep."Once he awakened, and in an opening in the circle, directly in front ofhim, he saw the she-wolf gazing at him.

　　Again he awakened, a little later, though it seemed hours to him. Amysterious change had taken place - so mysterious a change that he wasshocked wider awake. Something had happened. He could not understandat first. Then he discovered it. The wolves were gone. Remained only thetrampled snow to show how closely they had pressed him. Sleep waswelling up and gripping him again, his head was sinking down upon hisknees, when he roused with a sudden start.

　　There were cries of men, and churn of sleds, the creaking of harnesses,and the eager whimpering of straining dogs. Four sleds pulled in from theriver bed to the camp among the trees. Half a dozen men were about theman who crouched in the centre of the dying fire. They were shaking andprodding him into consciousness. He looked at them like a drunken manand maundered in strange, sleepy speech.

　　"Red she-wolf. . . . Come in with the dogs at feedin' time. . . . First sheate the dog-food. . . . Then she ate the dogs. . . . An' after that she ateBill. . . . ""Where's Lord Alfred?" one of the men bellowed in his ear, shakinghim roughly.

　　He shook his head slowly. "No, she didn't eat him. . . . He's roostin' ina tree at the last camp.""Dead?" the man shouted.

　　"An' in a box," Henry answered. He jerked his shoulder petulantlyaway from the grip of his questioner. "Say, you lemme alone. . . . I'm jes'

　　White Fang29plump tuckered out. . . . Goo' night, everybody."His eyes fluttered and went shut. His chin fell forward on his chest.

　　And even as they eased him down upon the blankets his snores were risingon the frosty air.

　　But there was another sound. Far and faint it was, in the remotedistance, the cry of the hungry wolf-pack as it took the trail of other meatthan the man it had just missed.