The She-Wolf

           Breakfasteatenandtheslimcamp-outfitlashedtothesled, thementurnedtheirbacksonthecheeryfireandlaunchedoutintothedarkness. Atoncebegantorisethecriesthatwerefiercelysad—criesthatcalledthroughthedarknessandcoldtooneanotherandansweredback. Conversationceased. Daylightcameatnineo’clock. Atmiddaytheskytothesouthwarmedtorose-colour,andmarkedwherethebulgeoftheearthintervenedbetweenthemeridiansunandthenorthernworld. Buttherose-colourswiftlyfaded. Thegreylightofdaythatremainedlasteduntilthreeo’clock,whenit,too,faded, andthepalloftheArcticnightdescendedupontheloneandsilentland. 

           Asdarknesscameon,thehunting-criestorightandleft andreardrewcloser—soclosethatmorethanoncetheysentsurgesoffearthroughthetoilingdogs,throwingthemintoshort-livedpanics. 

           Attheconclusionofonesuchpanic,whenheandHenryhadgotthedogsbackinthetraces,Billsaid: 

           "Iwishtthey’dstrikegamesomewheres,an’goawayan’leaveusalone." 

           "Theydogetonthenerveshorrible,"Henrysympathised. 

           Theyspokenomoreuntilcampwasmade. 

           Henrywasbendingoverandaddingicetothebabblingpotofbeanswhenhewasstartledbythesoundofablow,anexclamationfromBill,andasharpsnarlingcryofpainfromamongthedogs. Hestraightenedupintimetoseeadimformdisappearingacrossthesnowintotheshelterofthedark. ThenhesawBill,standingamidthedogs,halftriumphant,halfcrestfallen,inonehandastoutclub,intheotherthetailandpartofthebodyofasun-curedsalmon.