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Updated: May 14, 2025
Three hundred yards beyond that moving blotch was the thin line of timber, and Kazan and his followers bore down swiftly. Half-way to the timber they were almost upon it, and suddenly it stopped and became a black and motionless shadow on the snow. From out of it there leaped that lightning tongue of flame that Kazan had always dreaded, and he heard the hissing song of the death-bee over his head.
He did not mind it now. He yelped sharply, and the wolves raced in until four of them were neck-and-neck with him. A second flash and the death-bee drove from breast to tail of a huge gray fighter close to Gray Wolf.
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