3 The Lords of Creation

When the ice in it was gone, the little lake, about a mile long, and one fourth that distance in width, disclosed itself in attractive fashion. Will surmised that if so much muddy water from the melting snows on the mountains were not pouring into it its color would be a bright blue. Doubtless when it was breaking into rippling waves in the spring, under the influence of the gentle wind, it was the very embodiment of lonely beauty. Three times he strolled along its shores, and the third time he resolved to take a short swim.

It would be a cold plunge and he felt the need of a bath. Indians in winter troubled themselves little about such things, but cleanliness was a necessity to Will. Besides, he was extremely hardy, and could stand icy water, for a little while, at least. Selecting a shelving cove, he decided to swim out to a tiny forested island about thirty yards away, the place chosen being about a quarter of a mile from the camp, as he did not wish to be observed by Hoton and the others, who would certainly tell him he was mad.

But as he put down his bow and arrows, and rapidly took off his clothing he was very glad he had decided upon the swim. Surely the waters were already turning to that gorgeous blue he imagined they would be in the spring, and certainly the wavelets looked warm. Casting aside his last garment he sprang far out, and went under, head and all, in order to temper the first shock. He came up beating the water, spluttering and feeling a glorious thrill, and then, not forgetting wisdom in pleasure, he swam straight to the little forested island, where he leaped upon the land, and exercised a minute or two with great vigor. Then he made ready for another leap and the return swim to the mainland, but his muscles seemed suddenly to stiffen and his whole frame was affected by a sort of chill paralysis.

A huge mountain wolf was sitting upon his bow and quiver, and, with his jaws open and slavering, was looking straight at him, his cruel red eyes expressing the certainty of triumph. Will stared at the wolf and the wolf stared at him. The monster uttered neither yelp nor whine and did not stir an inch. His whole attitude and manner expressed the very quintessence of victory. As Will gazed at him, horrified, his size doubled and by-and-by his teeth and claws lengthened threefold. At least, it looked that way to his stunned spirit. Beyond the least doubt it was the father and king of the wolf world.

Will came out of his paralysis and drew back. Then all his pulses began to beat with mad vigor. In his excitement he forgot whether wolves could swim or not, and he retreated yet farther toward one of the trees. The wolf did not stir, but continued to gaze at him intently. One paw rested on the splendid bow and the other on the quiver. That fact in itself was proof that he had Will where he wanted him. The besieged lad shivered. Then a cold wind blew across his chest, and he shivered again. He climbed hastily into the tree and shouted for help as he had never shouted before. No answer came. His very desire to get away from the Indians now put them beyond the sound of his voice.

His mortification was equal to his alarm. He had trapped himself, and instantly the aspect of everything was tinged with the hue of his mind. There was no blue about the lake. Its waters were muddy, cold and repellent. The wind was rising and its breath was icy. He had his choice of going over to the mainland and being devoured by the wolf, or of staying where he was and freezing to death. Sitting in the fork of the tree he began to wave his legs and beat his chest to keep warm. But the wolf only laughed. Will’s assertion, that he always maintained against all doubters, was proof that he laughed, because he was there to see and hear and the doubters were not. Moreover, he could read the monster’s eye and understand what it was saying through its various shades of expression. And its shade of expression at this particular time certainly indicated a laugh.

“O, man,” said the wolf, as Will read his look, “I have you at last. You have tricked all my comrades and slain some of them, but you cannot escape me now. I wait patiently for the feast that I know is sure.”

Will distinctly saw the wolf lick his slavering jaws, and once more he shivered violently. The chill struck directly to his marrow. Then the animal cocked his head a little to one side and the besieged youth was sure that he saw a cruel twinkle in his eye, a twinkle that said just as plainly as if it had been put into words:

“You are nice and fat. You have been feeding well here in the valley and you have not exercised enough to reduce your flesh. You will make a most tender and juicy banquet.”

Will looked down at his bare body. There was an alarming number of curves and rounded outlines, showing that the wolf’s unspoken words were true. In this crisis of his life, when it was desirable to be lean, he was undeniably plump, just the sort of lad that a hungry wolf would wish to find up a tree. He grew furiously angry. He broke off a bit of a bough and threw it as far as he could in the direction of his besieger. It fell in the water and made no turmoil there, but the eyes of the wolf gleamed again and said very plainly:

“You need not grow angry and struggle, O man! You cannot avoid your fate! I am waiting here, as sure as death and as patient.”

The silence and certainty of the wolf made Will’s wrath rise higher than ever. He began to shout at him and reproach him. He wanted to make him growl back. He wanted to draw from him some sign of wolfish emotion. Anything but that implacable gaze and unending patience! The wolf rolled over his bow with one paw and his quiver with another, and then pushed his clothing disdainfully. That was the only sign he made. He was not to be disturbed by the squealing of his rat in the trap.

Will stopped shouting and gazed at him in a kind of fascinated horror. Then, after a. minute or two, he came to himself with a shudder. The wind was rising and he would surely freeze to death if he stayed there. He began to scramble up and down the tree from the low boughs to the high and back again, over and over, but it was precarious exercise and it brought little warmth. The wolf merely sneered. His eyes said clearly to Will:

“Jump, man, jump! Jump like the grasshopper? For like the grasshopper you think but little, and your life is to be even shorter! It amuses me to see you bound here and there, before I eat you!”

He stopped abruptly and sank to rest in the fork of the tree. He would not spend his last minutes entertaining the wolf that was going to devour him. But when he had rested a little he began to send forth a piercing call, imitating as nearly as he could that of Inmu, the night when they were in the fiery ring. No doubt this very wolf had been in that besieging circle, and was enjoying now the triumph that he had won alone, when the united pack had failed.

He had not known before that he had such splendid vocal organs, and he sent forth a stream of shouting that cut the air like the lash of a great wind. The wolf showed amusement. His eyes said:

“O, man, you tire yourself for nothing! Why not prepare in peace for your last moments?”

But he continued to shout and he noticed suddenly that the wolf’s eyes were beginning to speak a different language. His head was cocked again on one side, and he was saying to himself:

“I hear a new sound! It is in the forest behind me! Something comes!”

Will saw from the wolf’s look that a fresh current was about to be injected into the stream of events. He did not know what it was, but whatever it might be it could not make his situation worse. So he not only shouted, he fairly howled, just as a primordial man chased up a tree by a cave tiger or a cave bear may have roared for help. Nor did he shout in vain. The wolf suddenly rose to his four paws, stood a few instants in a dignified manner and then trotted into the forest. But before he was hidden by the shrubbery he turned upon Will one look. It was still sneering and the shivering youth understood very clearly that he said:

“O, man, you have been saved by chance, but I shall come again.”

Then the deep woods swallowed him up, and just as he disappeared Roka, Pehanson and Hoton came into view, their emergence from the trees occurring at the very point where Will’s weapons and clothing lay. It was these articles that they saw first, and they gazed at them in astonishment. Will’s first feeling had been relief at his escape, but his second was of overpowering mortification. However, there was nothing for it but to climb down in every sense of the word, and reveal himself, as one who had been trapped, and who stood bare to all the winds of adversity.

The three warriors, after looking at the weapons and clothing, glanced at the lake and caught sight of Will swinging himself from the tree. They uttered a shout of astonishment, but the lad, resolved to save a bad situation as much as he could, made a tremendous leap into the water, swam with a few strokes to the mainland and then, shaking himself violently until the drops flew in every direction, began to dress in haste and resolute silence.

“Did Waditaka turn himself for a while into a fish?” asked Hoton.

No answer.

“I see here the tracks of a wolf,” said Pehansan. “It may be that Waditaka was besieged on the little island. Is it so, O, my young brother?”

Will still refused to reply and slipped on his deerskin tunic.

“Waditaka would swim in the lake when it is yet winter,” said the irrepressible Hoton, “and while he has lost his tongue, we know that he has paid the price. We can swim in water, but only Waditaka can swim up into the boughs of a tree, where we first saw him. Did you go up there, Waditaka, that you might pray better to Manitou?”

Will flashed him a glance, and then compressed his lips. No word could come between them.

“Waditaka has a great soul,” continued Hoton. “Only he could sit up in a tree on a winter day, without any clothes and not feel cold. We who are born Dakota are proud of our endurance, but we yield to Waditaka. In all the annals of our race there has been no such hero as he. Generations from now the young maidens will sing of Waditaka, the great Waditaka, the unconquerable Waditaka, the mighty warrior, who defied all the icy winds out of the north.”

Will flashed him another savage look, but was yet silent.

“Perhaps Waditaka will swim to the island every day to pray,” continued the merciless Crow. “If so, it would be well for one of us to stand here while he is on the island and guard his weapons and clothes from the wolves.”

Will made a great struggle with himself and conquered. Then he began to laugh, realizing that many an annoyance sure to grow if you fought with it could be easily laughed away.

“Make all the jests you please, Hoton,” he said. “I admit that I’m open to ’em. The truth is I went into the lake for a quick swim, and the wolf surprising me held me on the island. I should probably have frozen to death in the tree if you three hadn’t come. I was never before so glad to see you.”

“Let it be a lesson to you, Waditaka,” said Roka gravely. “Never separate yourself from your bow and arrows. Situated as we are a man who does it almost makes a present of his life to the wolves that are always following us.”

“I’ve certainly had a splendid illustration of what you tell me,” said Will, resuming his weapons. “Do you think we could trail that hideous brute and kill him?”

“We might, but we would have to follow him two or three days and that would take us too far away from our errand. Tomorrow we will start on it again.”

They made Will warm himself a long time before the big fire, letting the heat fairly soak through every muscle and fiber of his body, and Hoton staying by him saw that the task was done thoroughly. It was not a time to risk deep colds and illness, but, the precaution taken, Will escaped all harm. That night, however, the wolves howled often, though at a safe distance.

“You were right about the wolves talking,” the lad said to Inmu. “I saw beyond question when I was in the tree that a wolf could talk. And he could talk, too, without moving his lips. He talked with his eyes and I understood him well. Do you know that when he went away he told me he would come back, and that he was sure yet of making a dinner off me?”

“It is a threat to be remembered,” said the young Dakota. “You must be on your guard against him.”

A warm sun shone the next day and the ground dried rapidly. For the sake of the increasing firmness they postponed their departure yet another day, and they also hid their snowshoes, of which Will was devoutly glad to be rid, concealing them under a mass of leaves and brush, weighted by stones.

“We must bury ’em good,” said Will. “It would be just like those wolves if we didn’t put ’em down too deep to come here and tear ’em to pieces out of sheer malice with their teeth and claws. It’s lucky for man that animals can’t think about one thing a long time. If they could, and the great meat-eaters made up their minds to have us, even though they followed us to the crack o’ doom, we’d be living pretty precarious lives.”

“It’s not a sure thing that the wolves, at least, can’t think of one thing for days and days,” said Inmu. “Haven’t those following us shown that they can? And now spring is approaching the great bears of the far north will come out of their dens and attack us again. I foresee that our journey will be one long battle with huge beasts.”

They slept once more by the good campfire, and, at dawn, departed, leaving the wickiups to remain as they were, if chance so willed it, to serve them again when they returned that way. Then they coasted northward along the shore of the lake, which was now really the beautiful blue that Will had once fancied it to be, its little waves breaking upon one another and crumbling into millions of bright bubbles. Passing it they entered a mighty forest, which stretched away to the neck of the valley. They carried heavy packs again, but as they walked on their own feet now, the walking was easy and the spirits of the young warriors were uplifted.

Curiosity, too, was alive. They were on the march once more and they wondered what they were going to see. What lay beyond the narrow neck through which they would pass when they went out of the valley? But that which they did see almost at once was a large number of great tracks.

“The wolves have passed ahead of us,” said Roka, examining them minutely. “In some manner unknown to us they have divined which way we would go and intend to lie in wait for us. But they are not alone. Some of the great bears have come out of their caves. See!”

He pointed to footprints far larger than those of the wolves. Obviously they had been made by the huge bears of the far north, double or triple the size of ordinary grizzlies, and Will shuddered a little as he looked at them. He felt that the wolves now had allies that the hardiest hunters would fear to face.

“How many bears were there, Roka?” he asked.

“The tracks show three,” replied the leader. “But they were not with the wolves. They passed afterward. The traces are fresher.”

“Can the wolf talk with the bear?”

“That I know not, but it is likely he can. They will form a union against us.”

When they camped that night in the neck of the Valley they worked until late, making new arrows, tipping them with the horn of the elk that Inmu had killed. Then Roka posted two sentinels, and the rest of them slept between two big fires. It was evident to Will that the leader was nervous, and he shared the older man’s apprehensions. The tenacity of the wolves had been proved already, and the advent of the great bears made the danger much more formidable. But no attack was made nor was there sound in the darkness from any animal, and the next morning they did not find track of either wolf or bear ahead of them. Will thought it possible that they might be free now from this terrible pursuit, but, when he expressed his hopes to Inmu, the young Dakota shook his head.

“The wolves will never quit us until they are dead,” he said.

“Then why not kill them?”

“What do you mean, Waditaka?”

“Instead of letting the wolves always hunt us, suppose we turn aside for a while and hunt them.”

The idea seemed to impress Inmu.

“We should have thought of that before,” he said. “We might speak of it to Roka.”

Will himself made the suggestion to the chief, who took it seriously.

“We will lay a track for the great pack,” he said, “and we will fight the wolves with the advantage on our side. I think we can find such a place ahead, where the neck leads out of the valley.”

Will did not ask about the details, but he felt pride that his plan was to be adopted, and he marched on steadily just before his friend, Inmu. They passed presently into the neck, a long, narrow pass leading, out of the valley. The cliffs of jagged stone rose on either side to a height of several hundred feet and were crested with dark masses of pine. The pass itself was curved, and for that reason they could not tell its length. When they were well within its shadows Roka, who was leading the file, stopped.

“How long would you say it is until night, Waditaka?” he asked. Will looked up astonished, but he gazed then at the sun, which was just visible over the western cliff, and replied:

“About two hours.”

“I asked you the question, Waditaka, to see whether you have learned to read the skies as we do who are born Dakota. Your answer is right, but there is more also behind my question. I will explain it by asking another. Can you climb the cliffs that hem us in?”

Will surveyed the stony walls with a measuring eye.

“If you attack a wall you find it’s seldom as steep as it looks,” he replied. “Besides, there are so many jutting crags that I could go up the cliff without much difficulty if I were pushed to do so.”

“It is well, Waditaka. All of us can climb it bearing our burdens and the reason will appear later. We will make our camp a little farther on, and await the wolves who are ahead of us. Since they are eager for our lives we will show them that they seek us at the price of theirs. Great will be the battle!”

Roka spoke with authority and pride, and although his tones were not loud his words were like a trumpet call. Will glanced at the dark faces and he saw the dilation of every eye. His own pulses leaped. They were tired of fleeing before an ambushed terror. They would turn and show that they were those to be dreaded most. The martial souls of the young warriors thrilled.

“In these lone regions,” said Roka, “the wolves dispute with man the mastery of earth. They claim to be superior to us. Then we will let the battle prove which is lord of creation here, man or wolf.”

Every warrior uttered a deep murmur of approval.

“You always choose wisely, O Roka,” said Tarinca. “Show us the way in which to fight.”

“Not with our bows and arrows alone,” said the leader. “We must use our heads also, because the wolves are cunning and wise. I think, though, that Manitou inclines to our side, because he has given us a battle ground that is to our advantage. See carefully to your weapons. Is your bow in perfect order Waditaka?”

“Yes, Roka.”

“It is needless to ask you, Pehansan?”

“It is ready, O chief.”

“And yours, Inmu?”

“Yes, my chief.”

“And yours, Hoton?”

“For the greatest battle of our lives, O chief.”

“And yours, Tarinca?”

“Ready for instant use, Roka.”

“And yours, Hinyankaga?” (Owl)

“Fit to draw arrow at once, great chief.”

“And yours, Wanmdi?” (Eagle)

“The string craves the arrow, Roka.”

“And yours, Tatokadan?” (Antelope)

“My bow calls to my arrows so strongly that they are about to leap from the quiver, wise chief.”

“And yours, Capa?” (Beaver).

“My arrow is eager to sing through the air, brave leader.”

Roka looked upon his young men with just pride. No weaklings there. Valiant warriors with the souls of real kings, they turned gladly for battle with a cunning and powerful foe.

“If it were given to me to wave you aside and choose nine in your place then I would choose you nine over again,” he said.

Every man uttered a deep murmur of thanks, and Roka went to work. He chose for the camp a comparatively level space where the valley was very narrow, and then found enough dead wood fallen from the cliffs above to build a fire. They also builded it high and they cooked much food and ate much and talked much. The whole camp bore an aspect of carelessness and gayety. It would have seemed to the eye of an outsider that the ten no longer feared anything and like those who are without fear took no precaution. Nor was their gayety merely assumed. The thrill of coming conflict, battle at time and place of their own choosing made their pulses leap and their hearts beat high. Yet, by order of Roka, they kept close to the fire.

Will saw the sky darken and heavy clouds of dusk creep up the pass, and he had an overpowering sense of the strange and uncanny. Once more he was rapt back through immeasurable time into the primordial world, in which man fought incessantly for life with the great wild beasts.

When they had eaten their fill, dispensing with water on this occasion, they permitted the fire to die, but they drew up logs before them in the attitude of sleeping men and spread over them as many of their garments as they could spare. Fortunately the air was not cold and the hardy warriors could spare much. These preparations were brief, but the night came on fast, and the darkness quickly grew very heavy in the pass. The fire was almost out and the figures of the warriors were but shadows. There was no sound. No breeze, even, was drawn through the pass, and the cedars far above their heads were motionless. It was so still that they could have heard the pattering of light feet at a distance, if the wolves had been approaching.

“Pehansan,” said Roka, “climb upon the crags, fifteen feet will be high enough, and see that every man is in a good position, where he can wait and use his bow well when the time comes. Inmu and I will remain here. We will be the bait.”

“You are our chief, O, Roka,” said the tall warrior, “and I am not one to question your orders, but I claim the place here with you. I am, next to you, the oldest in the band, and the honor is mine.”

“It would be, Pehansan, but the men on the crags will need a leader and none other is so fit as you. Your place there will be one of great glory.”

“I accept, but I ask you, Roka, that you and Inmu do not wait too long. Death under the teeth of the wolves would not be pleasant.”

“I know that full well, Pehansan. It is not in my mind to die. I find life very sweet. Go now, the full darkness has come, and if we wait it will be too late. Any wolf is cunning and wise, but these of the great north are the wisest and most cunning of all.”

Pehansan leading his seven men climbed up the east side of the pass, being careful to make no noise, finding, after some search, easy positions in which they crouched. Will’s bow was strung and he laid his quiver between his body and the wall, but where he could draw the arrow with a single motion. Then he looked down at two dark figures, those of Roka and Inmu, who had lain down by the side of the logs before the dying fire. At the distance, it was impossible to tell them from the inanimate wood, upon which the spare garments had been laid. All looked alike, the two men and the eight logs. They had purposely made the figures, ten in all, because Roka like Inmu believed that wolves, or at least the master wolf, could count, and, if their suspicions were to be lulled, the numbers must be the same as they had always been.

Will was filled with admiration for the two daring men who lay there, and who would be practically beneath the spring of the great wolves. Courage and self-sacrifice were not confined to his own race. He was learning to the full the variety and power of primitive virtues. He felt an immense pride in belonging to such a band.

A full hour passed and the eight watchers on the crags never stirred, nor did the figures around the fire, which had now gone out. No air yet moved. Not one of the dead leaves was shaken. Will listened intently for those soft foot falls that would tell of the enemy’s advance, but they did not come. His sense of something strange and uncanny, something that was happening in the dawn of the world, grew and obsessed him. He had been stalked by the Indian, but now he was being stalked by great beasts, and, in that savage world to which he had reverted, man was put on an equality with the fierce carnivora only by the bow which he carried. He stroked the horn of his own splendid weapon, and felt that it stood between him and death.

He could not see his seven comrades on the cliff, because they were hidden by crags and projections, and the two, lying before the fire, were so still they must certainly have ceased to breathe. He was alone in a desolate world, and his nerves quivered a little. One could wait with more patience, if the touch of a comrade was on either side of him. Then he steadied his muscles. Why should he be shaken when Roka and Inmu were lying there directly in the path of the pack? Once more he admired their extraordinary courage and resolution, because the wolves that were coming against them were not ordinary wolves, but the great wolves of the north, surcharged with ferocity and tenacity, and believing themselves lords of creation, superior to the men whom they were now hunting.

Will looked steadily toward the exit of the pass. The tracks had shown that the wolves had gone ahead of them and had probably been waiting somewhere in ambush at a narrow point. Smelling the fire and the presence of man they would come back, although they might wait patiently until the night was far gone. Then it was for man to be as patient as the wolf and not to fail in the first test.

It grew a little colder and he drew his buffalo robe closely about his body, lest his muscles become stiff. Once or twice he bent his bow to see that it retained all its flexibility and power, but mainly he watched the northern end of the pass, although at intervals he cast brief glances at the dim figures of Roka and Inmu, recumbent before the dead fire. It was wonderful how much they were like the logs with the spare garments upon them. It was only by remembering their numbers that he could tell which were animate and which inanimate.

He never knew how much time had gone, but, while he was gazing intently into the northern end of the pass, he saw a darker figure appear against the dark. At first it was just a great blur, but gradually it took the shape of an animal, and then he knew it definitely to be a wolf, a wolf monstrous beyond all human imagination. It looked like the evil creature of a dream, though Will knew that the distorting dusk and his fancy had enlarged it. But it was a monster, nevertheless, and then he saw the figures of other wolves behind it.

The wolves unquestionably had seen the ten shadows lying before the fire and from a long distance they had detected the man odor that came from two of them. Will believed as truly now as Roka and Inmu that they could count and that Roka’s cleverness in presenting ten recumbent figures, the same as the number of men on the march, had deceived them.

“Be ready, Waditaka, but wait until I give the word,” came a sharp whisper, and then he saw Pehansan near him, leaning forward from the shelter of his jutting spur.

The wolves, figure after figure, detached themselves from the dusk and came forward. Will saw then that the master wolf was not the first that had appeared, instead he was near the middle of the line, and he rose a half foot in height above any of the others, huge as they were. They were stalking the camp as if they were human beings, guided by a captain skilled in war, and, at sight of so much cunning, mingled with so much ferocity Will’s hair rose on his head. He looked at the ten figures, expecting that two of them would now rise and spring for the shelter of the crags, but they did not stir. Truly, the nerves of Roka and Inmu were superhuman.

The wolves broke their line now, and spread out exactly like flankers and skirmishers, advancing slowly and absolutely without noise. Theirs was a formidable attack made with so much secrecy. Only trained eyes, looking for them, could have seen them. The nearest was now within distant arrow-shot, and Will glanced again at Pehansan, but, though the face of the tall warrior was tense and eager, no word came from his lips. Will understood and admired. Pehansan, like Roka, when the strain upon the nerves was almost beyond endurance, had nevertheless the power to wait until the right moment in the face of appalling danger.

He had been staring into the darkness so long that he could see with fair distinctness. The wolves, about forty in number, were spread out in a creeping half circle, and the master wolf, towering above his fellows, was at the center of the curve. All of them were within bow-shot, but Will divined now that the word would come from Roka and not from Pehansan, and surely it would come soon, because another minute or two and the wolves would be able to spring. Before he drew many more breaths the question whether man or wolf was lord of creation here must be decided.

Every minute became an age. The figures of the creeping wolves again became distorted and gigantic in the dusk, looming like great primeval monsters. Would Roka and Inmu never stir? Had he been in the place of either of them, no matter how high his courage, his heart would have beat so hard that it would have come near to bursting. His hands shifted nervously along his bow.

Then he saw Roka and Inmu leap suddenly to their feet as if they had been propelled by mighty springs, and it seemed that with the same motion their arms flew back, drawing their arrows to the head. The next instant the shafts, deadly and winged, flew through the air and were buried deep in the bodies of two wolves. Twice and thrice the shafts flew and both warriors, throwing back their heads, uttered tremendous war cries of challenge and defiance that rang and rang again through the narrow pass. But the reply came in a growl so fierce, so full of ferocity that every nerve in Will’s body quivered. Then the wolves leaped.

“Now! Now! O, my children!” cried Roka. “Fill the air with your arrows!”

Will saw Roka and Inmu leap for the crags and pull themselves up out of reach as the wolves snapped at their heels. Then he saw nothing but the pack, the red eyes, the tremendous fangs, and claws, the great, lean figures, and he heard nothing but the continuous snarling and twanging of the vengeful bow-strings. The target was near, the need was imminent and never before had ten warriors, strong and true, shot so fast and with so much force.

Will was tremendously excited but he never forgot to take aim. He sent arrow after arrow into throat or heart, and always he was urged on by the shouts of Roka.

“More arrows! More arrows, O, my children!” cried the leader. “They would have battle, now give them their fill of it! Who is the lord of creation, O, you wolves, man or wolf? You bite and you snarl in vain! The stone of the cliff does not feel either your teeth or your claws! But you feel our arrows! Now, five of you are dead! Now ten and more! You shoot well! You shoot gloriously, O, my children!”

The voice of Roka rang continuously through the pass, and now and then his men also burst into thrilling shouts. Will shouted with them. He was as much a wild man in the dawn of the world as they. A fierce excitement burned through every vein, yet his head remained cool for battle, and he obeyed the command of Roka to all his warriors to send no arrow wild. His great elk horn bow sang and sang, and his arrows were buried deep in the bodies of the fierce beasts that strove with such rage to reach them.

The combat was all on one side. The generalship of Roka had proved triumphant. Strong and cunning as they were, the wolves could not scale the crags from which came a stream of arrows. Several leaped almost to the feet of the warriors, hung there desperately a few moments, and then fell to the ground. Will saw a hideous, snarling mouth scarcely a foot below him, and he pressed back against the cliff. But before the wolf could fall he sent an arrow to its very head in its throat.

“The victory is ours, my children!” cried Roka. “Not one of us is harmed, but half of them have fallen! Man, not wolf, is the lord of creation! Faster! Send in the arrows faster, and we will destroy the whole pack!”

Will wondered why the wolves persisted so long in a fruitless attack, but he believed afterward that it was due to a consuming rage. Surely if they had not lost their cunning and wisdom for the time they would not have fought on against such terrible losses. Nevertheless the end came. All the survivors turned suddenly and fled like shadows for the upper end of the pass, but Roka was in no mood to spare any that could be reached; nor was it the part of wisdom to let them escape.

“Shoot! Shoot!” he cried. “Send your arrows as long as you can reach a wolf!”

The ten shot so closely together that the arrows in groups followed the wolves as they fled, but, when the last left alive were gone, Will sank back exhausted against the face of the cliff. The scene had been so savage and his emotion had been so great that he felt faint, and the world reeled before him.

“The battle is won. The victory is greater than we had hoped,” said Roka, dropping lightly to the floor of the pass, where Inmu and Pehansan quickly followed him. Nothing could shake their iron nerves. Will recovered completely in a minute or so and let himself down from the niche that had been such a coign of vantage. The ten warriors stood in a close group, bows and arrows ready lest the wolves return to the attack, and looked upon the field of the slain.

Three or four badly wounded beasts, seeing man come down from his victorious heights, rose and tried to limp away, but they were swiftly dispatched with arrows, and then the warriors counted the fallen. Twenty-eight were stretched upon the earth, all larger than the greatest mountain wolves that any of them had seen, before the village was pitched in the lone valley. But the master wolf, the one that towered a full half foot above all the others, was not among them. Evidently his cunning and wisdom had been sufficient to save him, and they would have to reckon with him at another time.

The results, however, were so great that every man felt immense gratification. They built the fire anew and they built it bright and high. Then they cooked and ate slices of the elk, which they had made secure on the crags before the wolves came, and, wrapped in their buffalo robes, lay down before the flames. But none of them could sleep yet and Hoton, the teller of tales, in particular, was filled with the glory of victory.

“There has never been such another encounter with wolves in all the history of the Dakota nation,” he said. “Twenty-eight of them have we slain, every one a giant. I shall sing of it when we return to the village, I shall sing of it many times.”

“And when you are old,” said Pehansan, “you will make it forty-eight wolves, and then sixty-eight, and then eighty-eight.”

“Aye, Pehansan, so I will, and those who come after me will make it two hundred and those who come after them will make it four hundred. Our deed will grow and grow as long as the Dakota nation lasts, for such is the way of man.”

They would have removed some of the huge wolf skins, the hair of them being thick and long to endure the intense cold, but the weight of their packs was already great, and they were compelled to let them go. After a long rest by the fire they completed an important task, which at first they had thought of leaving for the morning. They recovered nearly all their arrows, and, as some of them had to be cut from the bodies of the wolves, the task was unpleasant and tedious. But they persisted and when the last arrow had been wiped clean and returned to its quiver, they took their places again by the fire which now burned so splendidly in the pass.

Then sleep soon overcame all except the two who watched, and the relaxation was so complete that they were buried in deepest oblivion. But the sentinels, never more wide awake, constantly replenished the fire and toward morning listened to low sounds in the dusk, where surviving wolves had crept back, other animals with them, and were devouring the dead bodies of their comrades.

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