INTO DARKNESS

“Crazy damn curs! Liedown, you sons of bitches!”
Thus did Albert the Indian address his cringing
dogs, swinging viciously at them with a chain.
But the damage was beyond repair; the young
bull-moose had been warned by those clamorous
canine throats and was plunging over the hill to
safety.

It was quite evident by this time that we would
not be able to kill on the trail, but the moose were
valuable alive in that they kept the dogs eager and
excited. We had come thirty miles already, but the
smell of moose was thick in the air, and under this
stimulus the dogs might last out until we reached
the Tuya cabin thirteen miles ahead.

“Let’s go on, Albert; if we make Tuya we can
use the meat we cached there on the way out.”

“Ye’, ye’, we can. Maybe we can make him
tonight. Get up, there! Mush!”

Albert’s little black leader jumped up in his
traces and trotted briskly ahead. My three young
huskies strained forward to keep up with him, and
I could hear the heavy panting of the lead-dog just

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