244 MOOSWA 



sang the Stag-hounds, their heads low to the 

 snow ; their lean flanks stretching out until they 

 seemed like something shot from a catapult. 

 But swift as they were, Mooswa was swifter. 

 They were running at high pressure, straining 

 every nerve, using every ounce of speed that was 

 in their wire-haired bodies ; the Bull was running 

 with a little in hand something in reserve. 

 &quot; They will upset everything,&quot; he thought. 

 &quot; Those blood thirsters will chase me on past 

 the Shack, and the Men may never see it.&quot; 



At the Second Rapid, with its tortuous ice- 

 humps, the Bull lost a little ground he had to 

 go slower. The dogs, quicker of foot, and able 

 to turn sharper, gained on him. Each time they 

 caught sight of their prey they gave a savage 

 yelp of eager exultation, and ran with heads high 

 ran by the eye. 



&quot; Sing, gaunt Brothers ! &quot; said Mooswa; &quot;on 

 the level you 11 have to run with your bellies 

 closer to the trail to keep your advantage.&quot; 



Well clear of the Rapid ice, the Bull again 

 swung his awkward-looking body forward with 

 increased pace. Suddenly a hoof crashed through 

 the crust almost bringing him on his nose; be 

 fore he had gone a hundred yards this happened 

 again. Fringed by giant Spruce, tall banks on 

 either side had stood as barrier between the fierce 



