hurt grizzly does the wolf pack gathered for the kill. None but a very
powerful man could ever have reached his feet. None less agile and
sinewy than a panther could have beaten them back as at first he did.
They fought in grim silence, yet the grove was full of the sounds of
battle. The heavy breathing, the beat of shifting feet, the soft
impact of flesh striking flesh, the thud of falling bodies-- of these
the air was vocal. Yet, save for the gasps of sudden pain, no man
broke silence save once.

"The snake'll get away yet!" a hoarse voice cried, not loudly, but
with an emphasis that indicated strong conviction.

Impossible as it seemed, the ranger might have done it but for an
accident. In the struggle, the rope had slipped to a point just below
his knees. Fighting his way down the hill, foot by foot, the Texan
felt the rope tighten. One of his attackers flung himself against his
chest and he was tripped. The pack was on him again. Here there was
more light, and though for a time the mass swayed back and forth, at
last they hammered him down by main strength. He was bound hand and
foot, and dragged back to the grove.

They faced their victim, panting deeply from their exertions. Fraser
looked round upon the circle of distorted faces, and stopped at one.
Seen now, with the fury and malignancy of its triumph painted upon it,
the face was one to bring bad dreams.

The lieutenant, his chest still laboring heavily, racked with the
torture of his torn shoulder, looked into that face out of the only
calm eyes in the group.