THE PIGHT, 189 



as firmly as possible, the wolf made determined but vaiu 

 efforts to bite first one then the other of the dogs, but was 

 totally unable to turn his head to either side sufficiently to 

 do so. 



The wolf looked like an incarnation of the spirit of 

 savagery. His long hair was all turned the wrong way. His 

 eyes glared and glowed ; like opals, they turned all colours 

 green, red, purple. They seemed literally to blaze with 

 ire. When he gnashed his great jaws, their fangs clacked 

 together with a sharp, vicious snap, like the report of a 

 pocket Derrenger. 



What a subject for the painter or sculptor who could have 

 done justice to that group ! 



I dismounted, threw the bridle-reins over my arm, and en- 

 couraged the dogs with my voice. 



The wolf, inspired to desperation by the sight of 

 another enemy, made a furious lunge, flung both dogs off, 

 and then, reckless of odds, rushed open-mouthed at me. 

 As he passed Nip, that gallant dog sprang forward, legged 

 him by his near hock, and with a clever twist threw him 

 on his back. As he fell, Tug rushed in and pinned him 

 by the throat, receiving as he did so a bite from the wolf, 

 who snapped him through one of his ears, fortunately only 

 getting hold of the tip of it, for he took the piece right out. 

 Again all three rolled over and over in the snow, by that 

 time stained and flecked with blood ; the wolf bleeding freely 

 at the neck, and Tug at the ear. 



Soon the savage monster shook himself free once more of 

 his assailants. Again the three sprung to their feet for 

 another round. But by this time the combatants seemed 



