The Angler's Story 63 



he seized the dead wolf and flung it at the others 

 as they came on. He struck one a fierce blow 

 under the jaw with his boot and made a slash- 

 ing cut with his long knife, at which one of the 

 wolves sprang around behind. At this he un- 

 slung the child and, holding it high in air with 

 one hand, attempted to toss it into the low, shelf- 

 like branches of the tree. But as he held it 

 aloft, the wounded wolf sprang upon him, sprang 

 and met the long blade that sank into its 

 throat. 



The force of the rush threw the man down 

 and away from the tree. Dropping the bag into 

 the soft snow, he seized his long skee that he 

 had thrust, end upward, in the snow, and waited. 

 The white wolf, the spectre of its kind, ran back 

 and came at him with many false starts, then 

 with a yelp dashed straight on. Clancy in- 

 tended to use the skee as a club, but the thought 

 suddenly found lodgment in his benumbed brain 

 that if this broke he was lost, so he dropped 

 it and sprang to meet the brute, with a mad- 

 dened cry gr-r-r-r-r in his throat. The wolf's 

 mouth was open, and with a movement like the 

 flash of light he grasped the lower jaw, back 

 of the sharp canines, bent it down with his giant 

 strength, at the same time gripped the throat 

 with his left hand, and the two rolled in the 

 snow from which came horrible cries, growls, 

 imprecations, the sounds that go with enforced 



