sight, coming swiftly on our track, and presently on came a fourth—all most ferocious-looking brutes. They were bold, approaching quite near, watching our movements, and now and then opening and snapping their teeth, and smacking their chaps, as if already feasting on human steaks and blood.
THE HUNGRY WOLVES.
We prepared for the fray by arming with rifle, gun, and spear, each ready to defend himself as best he could. Between the wolves and us was much hummocky ice. Behind this ice we placed ourselves, each seeking to get a good shot. Sharkey led in the attack, levelling his gun on the instant that one of these savage foes began to make its approach. The result was that the hungry wolf turned tail, and went off limping, minus a man-supper, his companions following him.
After the excitement of this affair was partially over, Koojesse informed me that he had known many instances in which Innuits had been attacked, killed, and devoured by hungry wolves. When once so attacked, it was generally sure death to the Innuit. It was, indeed, with thankful heart that I retired to my snowy couch that night, as I thought of my narrow escape from the very midst of that hungry pack, unarmed as I was, and far away from all help save that which is ever mighty to save.
The following morning. May 15th, we were about to resume
