80 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
in the least fear, which men call cows, and once 
they were chased by a dog. It was Little Bill 
that the dog really chased. Bill had dropped 
behind the rest a little, to feed on a succulent 
young birch tree, for his appetite was good these 
days; he was a growing boy. The dog, a huge 
mongrel creature which he, of course, supposed 
was one of those wolves his mother had told him 
of, came suddenly at him, and he quite naturally 
bolted for the maternal protection. It chanced 
that the little herd was to the windward, with a 
half gale blowing, and they didn’t get the dog 
scent. Into the swampy glade where they stood 
Bill burst without warning, the dog in full pur- 
suit, and just as Bill broke into their midst, the 
dog fastened on his rear leg. Bill turned about, 
with a snort of pain, trying to reach the dog with 
his bare little forehead. But there was no need 
of that. Bill’s father stepped into the breach. 
With lowered head and eyes that blazed, he made 
one lunge, one toss of his great, strong neck, and 
impaled on his pronged antlers the dog was torn 
with a wild cry from his grip on Bill, and then 
tossed into the air. Even as he fell, the antlers 
