eer steaks, and Arctic grouse--and
fainter, but more delicious still, the odor of their own meal being
cooked in the tent beside the cabin door.

They remained at the Springs a couple of weeks; and delightful weeks
they were, too, but for one unfortunate incident, which was precipitated
because of Tom's aristocratic race prejudice.

He had always hated Eskimo dogs; choosing either to ignore his own
huskie blood, or feeling that it was superior to the native strain in
the malamutes of the coast--just as some people boast of being
descended from Pocahontas, but would shudder at the mere idea of a
Siwash Squaw ancestress.

At all events, Tom had resented the entrance of the Eskimo, Wolf, into
the Kennel; and never failed, when "Scotty" was not about, to manifest
an enmity that would have told a civilized dog not to attempt any
liberties with him. But Wolf was only an ignorant puppy, taken from a
native igloo, where all of the dogs and all of the family lived in happy
harmony; and so, one day when he was particularly joyous, he nipped, in
a spirit of mischief, the end of Tom's wagging stump of a tail. Tom
wheeled instantly, his hair bristling and his jaws apart, but the timely
arrival of Matt made further demonstration impossible; and Tom's
instinctive dislike for Wolf grew into an obsession after that direct
and personal insult.

In their well-appointed quarters in Nome, with each dog in his own
stall, revenge was out of the question; and when in harness, or out with
Matt for exercise, there was as little chance for settling a grievance
as there would be with soldiers on parade. But at the Springs Tom's
opportunity came.

The small stables were overcrowded, there being seventy dogs in camp
belonging to storm-bound travelers. It was necessary to chain them
closer together than "Scotty" felt was wise, though he was not prepared
for the tragedy that greeted him when he went out one morning to see
that all was well with the team.

Every dog rose to greet him, as he came in with the Woman and Ben,
except Wolf, who lay dead, strangled with his own collar.

The muscular body, so supple and vigorous but a short time before, was
stiffening fast; and there were signs of a struggle desperate but
ineffectual.

"Oh, 'Scotty,' can't you do something for poor Wolf?" and the tears came
to the Woman's eyes as she laid a pitying hand on the handsome head of
the tawny malamute.

"It's too late," said Allan regretfully. "He was a