“Gee, now we’ve lost them!” exclaimed Tom in disgust. “Why didn’t you let us shoot, Unavik?”
The Eskimo grinned but said nothing. Beckoning to the boys he turned and ran rapidly along the ridge in the direction the animals had gone. Presently, to the boys’ ears, came the barks, yelps, and growls of the dogs. Rounding a rocky hillock they came in sight of the pack, nipping and snapping at the musk oxen who had formed in a close ring with lowered threatening horns towards their enemies.
With their long, shaggy, black hair, their wild, reddened eyes and great recurved needle-pointed horns, the creatures looked very savage indeed and the dogs knew full well that death lurked in that ring of broad heads and sharp horns. These were no timid reindeer and, though the wolflike huskies now and then took chances and dashed at the snorting, stamping creatures before them, none dared approach too closely.
Suddenly one of the oxen uttered a low bellow, plunged forward and, before the dogs could retreat, the wicked horns swung to right and left, and a howling husky was tossed high in air to fall dead and bleeding on the snow.
“Golly, they’re some fighters!” exclaimed Jim in a low voice. “Come on, Tom, let’s shoot!”
But before the boys could fire, the musk oxen had scented them. Forgetting the dogs in their greater fear of human beings, they dashed off in a close-packed bunch with the huskies at their heels. Once more Unavik and the boys raced after them, and once more the dogs brought the animals to bay. This time Unavik led the way behind bowlders and snowdrifts down the wind. All unsuspected by the wild cattle, the three approached within easy range and picking out two of the biggest bulls, the boys fired.
At the double report the musk oxen again dashed off and, confused by the dogs, they came galloping, plunging, directly towards the three hunters. Before the astonished boys realized what had occurred, the great shaggy beasts were upon them. There was no time to reload and fire, no time to rise and run. Like an avalanche the stampeded creatures bore down upon the frightened boys. With lowered heads, rolling eyes, steaming nostrils and swinging horns they came. With terrified yells the boys threw themselves to one side, rolled among the rocks, and buried their heads, faces down, in the snow. All about them pounded the galloping hoofs. Tom screamed as he was struck a terrific blow and hurled aside. Over them they heard the panting breaths, the loud snorts and the low bellows of the creatures. Each second they expected to feel the sharp hooked horns ripping through their garments and their flesh.
But in an instant it was over. The musk oxen had passed; the boys were unhurt, and slowly, and with wondering expressions, they cautiously raised themselves as the pack of dogs raced by.