and the small pack that he wore on his back, then ran a short distance up the stream. And the muscles of his body seemed to shiver and vibrate with strength as he plunged into the dark waters.
Broken Fang, the cougar, had seen the dog and the man on the opposite bank, and at first he had been afraid. He retained enough of his natural caution not to wish to reveal himself at once. "Most of all, fear men," was one of the first of the long scroll of forest laws, and time had been when he had shivered and skulked with fear at just the human smell on the wind. But to-night he was very hungry. And the game was almost in his claws.
He hadn't forgotten that he was the master of the forest, who had felled even the horned steer. What were these slight figures to stand against him? Many of the forest laws he had already broken; he might even yet break the law that forbade the death-feast,—and why should he obey now? A slow, terrible anger began to overcome him.
He had missed his kill too many times that night. He felt a blind desire not to run away but to stay and fight. He crept down nearer the water's edge, his glaring eyes on the two figures on the opposite bank. At that instant he saw both of them plunge into the torrent.
This was the action of the deer when the wolves pressed them close,—to jump into the river to escape. These creatures were like the
