er opportunity
to judge of his prowess, in a world wherein all questions are
submitted to the arbitrament of tooth and claw in physical combat.
And keenly the handsome dingo judged; watchfully she weighed the
varying chances of the fray; not a single movement in all the
dazzling swiftness of that fight but received her studious and
calculating attention, her expert appraisement of its precise
value. As the fight progressed from its marvellously sudden
beginning, her unspoken comments ran somewhat after this fashion--

"He is not so quick as our kind--as yet. He is marvellously strong.
He is not smart enough in the retreat after biting. His jaws are
like the men-folk's steel traps, when they do get home. He misses
the leg-hold every time, and that is surely foolish, for he could
cripple them there in an instant. My teeth and claws! but what a
neck he must have! It is reckless the way he leaves his great legs
unguarded. Save me from traps and gins! Saw dingo ever such a
mighty leap!"

In the first moments of that fight the two dingoes were half drunk
from pride. It seemed certain to them that they would easily
overcome the giant stranger. Indeed, Black-tip, the bigger of the
two, who had a black bush at the end of his fine tail, actually
seized the opportunity of taking a lightning cut at one of the
fore-legs of his cousin in the confusion of a rush in upon the
Wolfhound, feeling that it was as well to get what start he could
in dealing with the remaining claimant for Warrigal's hand. He
counted the Wolfhound dead, and wanted to reduce his cousin's
chances in the subsequent fight that he knew would be waged to
secure possession of Warrigal. It was sharp practice, according to
our standards in such matters, but perfectly justifiable according
to the laws of the wild, where the one thing demanded is ultimate
success--survival. But, though morally justified, Black-tip was
actually at fault, and guilty of a grave error of judgment.

[Illustration: He was backing gradually towards a boulder beside
the trail.]

Finn took much longer than one of Black-tip's kindred would have
taken to realize the exact nature of his situation and to act
accordingly; but, as against that, he was a terrible foe when once
he did settle down to work, and, further, his mighty muscles and
magnificent stature, though they could not justify either
recklessness or slackness--which nothing ever can justify in the
wild--did certainly enable him to