ill some five
or six paces in breadth, Kane swung steadily. As he went, he kept a
sharp eye on the shadowed edge of his path. He had gone perhaps a
mile, when all at once he felt a tingling at the roots of his hair,
which seemed to tell him he was being watched from the darkness. Peer
as he would, however, he could catch no hint of moving forms; strain
his ears as he might, he could hear no whisper of following feet.
Moreover, he trusted to the keener senses, keener instincts, of the
dog, to give him warning of any furtive approach; and the dog was
obviously at ease.

He was just beginning to execrate himself for letting his nerves get
too much on edge, when suddenly out from the black branches just ahead
shot a long, spectral shape and fell upon the dog. There was one
choked yelp--and the dog and the terrible shape vanished together,
back into the blackness.

It was all so instantaneous that before Kane could get his rifle up
they were gone. Startled and furious, he fired at random, three times,
into cover. Then he steadied himself, remembering that the number of
cartridges in his chamber was not unlimited. Seeing to it that his axe
and knife were both loose for instant action, he stopped and
replenished his Winchester. Then he hurried on as fast as he could
without betraying haste.

As he went, he was soon vividly conscious that the wolves--not the
Gray Master alone, but the whole pack also--were keeping pace with him
through the soundless dark beyond the rim of the spruces. But not a
hint of their grim companioning could he see or hear. He felt it
merely in the creeping of his skin, the elemental stirring of the hair
at the back of his neck. From moment to moment he expected the swift
attack, the battle for his life. But he was keyed up to it. It was not
fear that made his nerves tingle, but the tense, trembling excitement
of the situation. Even against these strange, hidden forces of the
forest, his spirit felt sure of victory. He felt as if his rifle would
go up and speak, almost of itself, unerringly at the first instant of
attack, even before the adversary broke into view. But through all the
drawn-out length of those last three miles his hidden adversaries gave
no sign, save that once a dead branch, concealed under the snow,
snapped sharply. His rifle was at his shoulder, it seemed to him,
almost before the sound reached his ear. But nothing came of it. Then
a panic-mad rabbit, stretched straight out in flig