"Oh, Minos, Minos," wailed the girl, "our end is come. Our fire—'tis gone. Worn out with tending thee, for thou hast lain sick these many days, I did give way and sleep—for but a little hour, I thought—and when I woke our fire was gone. Not one little spark was left. Ah, Minos, thou diest, and I myself have slain thee, my love, my love."
With a mighty effort he raised an arm and set it about her. "Nay, fret not for that which thou couldst not prevent," he whispered. "Minos is content to die. It was to be. The end cometh but a little sooner, this way."
A burst of howling from without interrupted him and goaded the dogs to frenzy.
Memene shuddered. "The great white bears are there," she whispered. "They have howled for hours. Soon will they enter and rend us. I have tied the dogs fast so that they might not rush out and fight and be slain—Ah—see!"
Horror struck, she pointed to the passage. Overcoming by degrees his fear of an unseen trap, one of the monsters had penetrated the pass and was clawing at the rock. The way was narrow, but, by dint of much writhing and squeezing, the bear reared his ponderous bulk over the boulder. In the dusk of the passageway his shaggy head and colossal shoulders shone white. His cruel jaws slavered as he craned his head around the turn in the wall, swaying it slowly from side to side, as his blazing merciless eyes sought out his prey.
At that sight the Princess Memene turned from fear to rage. Like a tigress with young, she leaped from the couch, caught a spear from the wall, and dashed into the passage.
"Thou shalt not!" she shrieked, scarce knowing what she said. "Thou shalt not enter! My king and I shall die in peace, and not be torn by thee!"
As she screamed she struck furiously at the bear's head with the ilium spear, and gashed him deeply. Wedged where he could go neither backward nor forward without great effort, the huge animal was hard put to it to defend himself from the attack of the infuriated woman. Dauntlessly she faced him, thrusting with the spear.
Minos, on his couch, strove with all his will and strength to rise up and go to her aid, but so weak was he that all his struggling did not lift his shoulders from his pillow.
In the narrow confines of the cave, the howling of the bear and the snarling of the seven dogs, gone mad at sight of their enemy and with balked lust for fighting, made the din of an inferno. The gray snow runners twisted and tore at their leashes, and leaped and leaped again, only to fall back on the rock floor, as their ropes held.