have come; for, with one savage snarl, the first row rushed straight on.
There came a flash, then the hiss of a white-tongued fiery serpent. As
the first wolf reared on his haunches, the smell of burning hair and
roasting flesh halted the half-maddened pack, and, falling over one
another, again they retreated.

It was a tense moment. Slapping his hands to warm them, Barney adjusted
cartridges and swept the circle with an imaginary volley. What if the
machine-gun jammed? There could be but one result. The torch would not
long hold the beasts off. Besides, the gas would not last.

"Well, shoot if you can!" exclaimed Bruce. "This gas is precious stuff.
We can't waste it."

At that, there came the staccato music of the machine-gun. With steady
eye Barney swept the inner circle. They went down like grain before a
gale. With strange wild snarls they bit at their wounds, at one another,
at the snow. The gun swept again with its merciless fire. The furthermost
members of the pack began to slink away. Then as Barney raised his gun
and sent a rain of bullets pattering about them, the whole snarling pack
fled in yelping confusion.

The battle was won. Bruce cut off the gas. Barney ceased his fire. The
Major, loosing his harness, stood up and stretched himself. Then they
looked at one another and laughed.

"Some fight!" exclaimed Barney.

"Some fight!" agreed Bruce.