They were following in her footsteps now, for the noise was all behind her, not scattered over the forest, as it had been at first.
The brutes had gathered into a pack, and Stella shuddered as she pictured in her mind the gray band coming upon her with long, loping, tireless strides; with red, long, lolling tongues and slavering, sharp-fanged jaws.
Presently she heard another noise behind her, and looked over her shoulder.
The sight that met her eyes caused her to almost faint.
Not twenty yards behind her was an enormous gray wolf, loping along easily but as swiftly as a horse.
His eyes were blazing like green lamps, and his great body was scarred and torn. Evidently he was the king of the pack.
Stopping suddenly, she drew her revolver and fired two shots at him.
He came to a halt with a snarl of rage and began biting at his shoulder.
Then Stella turned and ran again, with the clamor of the pack close behind her.
But she was failing, and her run had become a painful stagger, and her breath came in gasps.