So intent was he on peering into the darkness after the fleeing form that he did not notice another large brute slinking stealthily up on his right. With a snarl it sprang straight at him, and before Keith could lift a hand in self-defence he staggered back, tripped over a twig, and fell heavily to the ground. With one hand he seized the wolf by the throat with a vise-like grip, while with the other he endeavored in vain to draw forth his hunting knife.
At this critical moment the dog, which up to this time had presented the appearance of abject terror, aroused suddenly to action. It rushed upon the wolf like the incarnation of fury, and sinking its teeth into the monster's side began to tear the quivering flesh.
Assailed from this new quarter, the wolf tried to turn back upon the dog. This effort partly relieved the weight from Keith's body and enabled him to grip the handle of his trusty knife. It took but an instant to rip it from its sheath and plunge the keen, glittering point into his antagonist's side. With a yell of pain the wolf attempted to escape. It was too late; the blow had been sure, and ere long he was quivering in death upon the ground, with the dog worrying him to the last.
Keith at once sprang for his rifle, thrust in a loaded shell, and stood awaiting the next move of his savage enemy.
CHAPTER II
ABANDONED
All through the dark hours of the night Keith kept watch, with the anxious dog growling intermittently at his feet. He knew there were wolves still in the vicinity, for at times he could hear their ugly snarls near the spot where their companion had fallen.
Slowly the hours wore away, and at length the dawn began to steal over the land. It needed but a little light to show the dim forms of three wolves squatting on the snow some distance off. Bringing his rifle to his shoulder, Keith sent a ball straight through the heart of the largest, which bounded into the air, and then rolled over on the snow dead. The other two started up in surprise, but a second shot brought one of them to the ground, while his companion, bold brute though he was, turned and fled. Thus the weary watch and the fight were over, and Keith breathed a prayer of thankfulness at his escape from the blood-thirsty foe.
Long before the sun had made its appearance, man and dog were retracing their steps over the trail they had traversed the previous evening. It meant much to turn back and thread their way across that desolate waste of snow, through dreary forests, level plains, and sweeping lakes.