Near the mouth of Grampus River there was a section of "bad ice" or ice that was not always safe to be crossed, the result doubtless of cross currents in the tide. To avoid this bad ice Andy followed the shore for a considerable distance before turning northward for the twelve-mile run directly across the Bay to The Jug.
It was a dull, cold, dreary day. The snow ground and squeaked under the sledge runners. Now and again a confusion of shore ridges rendered the hauling bad and the dogs lagged.
They were midway between Grampus River and the place where they were to make the turn northward when Jamie warned:
"Look out, Andy! There's some loose dogs comin' out of the woods! They'll be fightin' the team!"
Six big beasts, larger even than Thomas Angus's big dogs, were trotting out of the woods and upon the ice a hundred yards in advance. The team saw them, and with a howl rushed forward to the attack.
"Wolves!" yelled Andy. "They's wolves!"
The wolves were free. The dogs were bound by harness, and thus fettered were no match for the big, wild creatures. Andy's rifle was lashed upon the komatik. It was out of the question to free it in the moment before the wolves were upon them, and it was to be a hand-to-hand fight.