n them. A
fierce argument arises, and the debate takes the form of a vicious
clipping of huge fangs. A mighty roar interrupts them, seeming to quell
their warlike spirit. For a moment silence reigns.

Then as if by chance, one great dog-wolf is driven out upon the
battleground. He is a leader, high of shoulder, broad of chest, with
jaws like the iron fangs of a trap, and limbs that are so lean that the
muscles stand out upon them like knots of rope. And his action is a
signal to the crowd of savage poltroons behind. With one accord they
send their fierce battle-cry out upon the still air, and leap, like the
rush of an avalanche, to the lair of the mountain lion. Out from his
shelter springs the royal beast, and close upon his heels comes his
mate. Side by side they stand, ready for the battle though the odds be a
million to one against them.

Their sleek bodies are a-quiver with rage, their tails whip the earth in
their fury, while their eyes, like coals of green fire, shine with a
malevolence such as no words can describe.

Again the wolves hesitate. Their outstretched tails droop and are
pressed between their legs; their backs are hunched, and they turn their
long, narrow heads from the green glitter of the two pairs of terrible
eyes. But the pause is brief, and the noise has died only for a second.
One wolf moves a step forward, hunger overpowering his fears. As before,
it is a signal. The whole pack leap to the fray; struggling, howling,
fighting as they come ripping at comrade and foe alike. The battle is
swift; so swift that it is almost impossible to realize that it is over.
The pack, leaping and baying, pass on, following the blood trail of the
man, leaving more bones upon the plateau, more blood upon the trodden
snow; and the royal dwellers of that little plain have vanished as
though they had never been.

The path has taken a downward slope and the man looks ahead for the fair
face, hungrily, feverishly. Again it has vanished. His heart cries out
bitterly, and his despairing voice echoes through the barren hills.

As he advances the path declines lower and lower, till out of the
shadowy depths the tree-tops seem climbing to meet him. The air he
breathes is denser now, and respiration is easier. As the path declines
its mountainous sides rise higher and higher until overhead only a
narrow streak of sky is revealed, like a soft-toned ribbon set in a
background of some dun-coloured material. Ahead is a barri