h. For a long moment he did not move. Had he
broken his leg? Had he--? She sobbed with relief. He was beginning
to struggle out; but, even in her excitement, she noticed that he did
not use his right hand. It hung limply from the wrist.

Ellen must have seen the beast as soon as Jean for as her husband fell
she was dashing away across the tundra to him. Jean's mind wrestled
with the situation. With his right hand useless, Boreland, good shot
though he was, could never send the single bullet that must kill the
grizzly. They could risk no fight at close range with a wounded and
infuriated Kodiak bear. Jean remembered her sister's unusual skill at
target practice on the _Hoonah_. Jean herself was a good shot but
Ellen could, unfailing, hit a bull's eye at twenty paces, though she
could never be persuaded to shoot at a living thing. Would she have
the courage, the coolness, to face the monster in that critical moment
which meant life or death to her son? Would she _be_ in _time_?

Now the bear had traversed more than half the distance to the hummock
and was still lumbering along. She must stop him, must at least delay
him--she and Kobuk--so that Ellen might reach the other side of the
mound before him.

She ran to meet the dog. Snatches of hunting tales Kayak Bill had told
came to her--tales of northern huskies hamstringing wild beasts. She
did not know what the term meant, but Kobuk could do it. Kobuk, the
powerful, the swift, the beautiful. . . . Then she remembered--Kobuk's
right foreleg was crippled and still tightly bandaged. . . . Kobuk
crippled stood no chance against a Kodiak bear!

She came up to him. At her approach, as though reinforced by her
presence, the dog turned clumsily on three legs to face the beast.
Low, savage growls issued from his throat. His lips curled away from
his sharp fangs; spasms serrulated his nose; the hair along his spine
rose and fell.

Jean patted his side. Sick at heart she urged him forward. She
pointed desperately to the monster.

"Mush, Kobuk! Sick 'im, old boy!" She forced enthusiasm into her
tones. "Go head him off!"

The dog limped a few feet. He looked back at her, his ferocious look
softened. His crippled leg hung useless. He raised clear, questioning
eyes to her face.

"Oh, Kobuk, darling, I know--I _know_--" the girl's voice broke. She
knelt and threw her arms about him. "But you must do _something_!
Kobuk, you must!" She pleaded with