scow increased. Hairy forefeet appeared upon the gunwale of the scow and broad-chested bodies reared high as the great malamutes looked eagerly toward the black canoe from whence came the familiar whistle-sound. Loud, excited cries reached the ears of the pursuers as the men endeavoured to quiet the excited dogs, whose concerted rush to the side threatened momentarily to upset the scow. But the wolf-dogs paid no heed, and as the sound of the whistle again broke upon his ears, the huge leader threw back his head and gave voice to a long ululation—half wolf-cry, half dog—and instantly the cry was taken up by others of the pack, and the sound of the shouting voices was drowned.
Then it was that Squigg, himself, precipitated the disaster that made for his own undoing. Raising his spruce pole, he brought it crashing down upon the head of the howling leader—and the next moment the scow was filled with leaping, whirling bodies, and a pandemonium of growls and yelps, and frightened man-cries reached the ears of the three canoemen. The battle was short and decisive. Suddenly, with a wild yell, a man plunged overboard, and as the dogs, with one
