many places, and blood was streaming from his sides.
Yet he had fought so gallantly that he had tossed and
stamped to death dozens of the enemy. There could
not have been fewer than fifty wolves round him; and
they had just concluded another of many futile attacks
when the hunters came up, for they were ranged in a
circle round their huge adversary--some lying down,
some sitting on their haunches to rest, and others sneaking
about, lolling out their red tongues and licking their
chops as if impatient to renew the combat. The poor