THE WOLF OF MUSKOKA 143 



changing, until both parties were quite exhausted. 

 And now, here lay the wolf in the centre, with 

 his tongue hanging from his jaws, and at the 

 distance of a few feet the dogs around him, bleed- 

 ing and panting for breath. At this juncture, 

 Hoskins, who had not even a penknife in his 

 pocket, was unable to terminate the affair ; he 

 sat upon his horse, a silent and admiring spec- 

 tator of the strange scene. At length, when he 

 thought his dogs had somewhat recovered their 

 breath, he called on them to return to the charge. 

 Old Cleon, a black dog of great strength and 

 courage, was the only one who obeyed the 

 summons he sprang fiercely at the wolPs 

 throat ; the latter, however, who had risen to 

 his feet, by a well-timed snap, seized Cleon at 

 the back of the neck, and soon was savagely 

 grinding away on the poor fellow's skull with 

 his immense jaws. This was too much for any 

 hunter to witness a favourite dog held helpless 

 in a grip that threatened very speedily to end 

 his days. Hoskins was an experienced hunter, 

 and a very cool and determined man he after- 

 wards fell at the battle of Monterey, Mexico ; 

 on this occasion he sprang from his horse and 

 seized the wolf by the hind leg, and by a violent 



