An Airedale’s jaws are the most formidable part of him. Those inch-long tushes can give a frightful slash, and with them two of the big 60-pound western Airedales can pull down a mountain lion between them. Blaze’s teeth closed on that canteen nozzle like crushing paper. The metal gave; the cork squeezed. A savage pull on it, a shake that would take the ear off another dog, wrenched it loose and broke away the solder in its joint. A thin stream of water began to trickle out through this crack as the canteen lay on the sand—and under it ran a long red tongue, curved like a spoon, lapping up greedily every drop as it flowed out!
After that Blaze felt better. He lay down awhile. The matted cake of dried blood and hair around the arrow kept any flow from starting again, even with fresh water making new blood in his veins. It was getting cooler now. A huge circle of shadow began rapidly to creep out from the west toward the center of the crater. The coyote had moved down a hundred yards nearer. Another was singing his shrill song up on the rim, and working around stealthily to join the first one in the gap.
Blaze got up, growling. He was very stiff and could only move those shoulders by enduring intense pain, but immediate attack was his best defense now, and he knew it. Steadily he climbed up the gap through the river of desert vegetation that flowed down its slope. The coyote was waiting for him, silent, crouched for a spring. His green oblique eyes glared at Blaze menacingly, as he drew near—his teeth were bared in a wicked snarl.
Blaze increased his speed, heading straight for him, snarling savagely. The coyote was a little larger than he, but Blaze and Ruler had tackled the great timber wolf together, and he was not in the least afraid of him! At ten paces off he suddenly let out a volley of ferocious terrier barks, vengeful with the fury of the lion, terrifying to the creature attacked. Then he charged.
That coyote did not wait! That savage attack, even by a wounded dog, was too much for his cowardly nature! There was a squeal, a yelp, a bawl of pain as Blaze’s fangs laid open his shoulder to the bone—and then a gray streak vanished through the creosotes so fast that nothing but a greyhound could have overtaken him!
Blaze loped on, grim, dogged, determined. The sun was setting now, and travel would be more endurable. Scotty’s canteen had given him new life. He was going to win through to camp if he had to bring in every coyote in the desert after him! The trail wound down around the flanks of the crater and brought him back to the sands again. From there it went on, mile after mile, while a grand and beetling mountain range loomed up nearer and nearer.
Blaze felt himself growing weaker again. The sand had given way to the most awful of broken black lava under foot, rough and sharp beyond description. The horses had picked their way over it with difficulty; to the weak and wounded dog it was a purgatory of toil and it took every last ounce of strength out of him.
Darkness fell. Blaze could see fairly well in the dark, and he needed to, here! Thorny ocatillas, devilish choyas and stunted bisangas that were balls of sharp thorns outside, had to be seen and avoided if he would save his eyes. Twice he lay down and gave it all up. Only the steadily freshening scent of the white mustang’s tracks gave him courage to rise again and keep on.
Then great walls of ragged black rock loomed up, dark and forbidding, ahead in the gloom. It seemed the end of all things to Blaze. What in all the world was he coming to! He stopped, shivering all over with the sharp cold of the desert night. His wound ached unbearably. He lay down puzzled, wearied at the mere sight of this hideous black rocky mass ahead. It was perhaps the tenth time since leaving the crater that he had done so. Blaze groaned and gave up the pursuit of Master in a final disconsolate howl.
But this time the barking challenge of another dog answered, sounding faintly in his ears!