Badlands Billy 
threefold track went bounding on; another 
hour and no change, but interminable climbing, 
sliding, struggling, through brush and over 
boulders, guided by the far-away yelping of the 
Dogs. 
Now the chase led downward to the low 
valley of the river, where there was scarcely any 
snow. Jumping and scrambling down hills, 
recklessly leaping dangerous gullies and slip- 
pery rocks, we felt that we could not hold out 
much longer; when on the lowest, dryest level 
the pack split, some went up, some went down, 
and others straight on. Oh, how King did 
swear! He knew at once what it meant. The 
Wolves had scattered, and so had divided the 
pack. Three Dogs after a Wolf would have 
no chance, four could not kill him, two would 
certainly be killed. And yet this was the first 
encouraging sign we had seen, for it meant that 
the Wolves were hard pressed. We spurred 
ahead to stop the Dogs, to pick for them the 
only trail. But that was not so easy. Without 
snow here and with countless Dog tracks, we 
were foiled. All we could do was to let the 
Dogs choose, but keep them to a single choice. 
6) 
