tself in the snow.
But as he looked the huge bull lurched upward and charged toward the
right, from which point Pehansan was coming. Evidently a shift of the
wind had brought it the odor of the Crane, and it attacked at once with
all the ferocity of a mad elephant.

Will had a clear view of a vast body, great humped shoulders, and sharp,
crooked horns. But now that the danger had come his pulses ceased to
leap and hand and heart were steady. The arrow sang from the bow and
buried itself deep in the great bull's neck. Another and another
followed until a full dozen were gone, every one sunk to the feather in
the animal's body. Roka and Pehansan were firing at the same time,
sending in arrows with powerful arms and at such close range that not
one missed. They stood out all over his body and he streamed with
blood.

But the bull did not fall. No arrow had yet touched a vital spot.
Bellowing with pain and rage, he whirled, and catching sight of Will,
who was only a few yards away, charged. Pehansan and Roka uttered
warning shouts, and the youth, who in his enthusiasm had gone too near,
made a convulsive leap to one side. Had he been on hard ground and in
his moccasins he might easily have escaped that maddened rush, but the
long and delicate snowshoes caught in a bush, and he fell at full length
on his side. Then it was the very completeness of his fall that saved
him. The infuriated beast charged directly over him, trampling on the
point of one snowshoe and breaking it, but missing the foot. Will was
conscious of a huge black shape passing above him and of blood dripping
down on his body, but he was not hurt and he remembered to cling to his
bow.

The raging bull, feeling that he had missed his prey, turned and was
about to charge again. Will would not have been missed by him a second
time. The youth would have been cut to pieces as he struggled for his
balance, but Pehansan did a deed worthy of the bravest of the brave. Far
more agile on the snowshoes than Will, he thrust himself in front of the
animal, waved his bow and shouted to attract his attention. The bull,
uttering a mighty bellow, charged, but the brave Crane half leaped, half
glided aside, and his arrows thudded in the great rough neck as the
beast rushed by.

When the monster turned again, Will, although he was compelled to lean
against a bush for support, had drawn a fresh sheaf of arrows from the
quiver, and he sent them home in a stream. Roka from anot