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Updated: June 3, 2025
Team after team of the little yellow and gray Eskimo dogs, as quick with their fangs as were their black and swift-running masters with their hands and feet, met the much larger and darker-colored Malemutes from the Athabasca.
From where he had made his attack, he followed the almost obliterated trail of the Frenchman and his Malemutes until he came to the lake; and then he knew that Jean de Gravois had spoken the truth, for he found the missionary with his face half buried in the slush, stark dead. He no longer had to guess at the meaning of Jean's words.
Never before had the Indians heard it from the white man's lips, and they thrilled at the sound to the marrow. The blood surged through the veins of the wild men as it had not surged in long decades. It was the war-cry of the Yellow Knives! Bob MacNair's sled seemed scarcely to touch the hard surface of the snow. The great malemutes ran low and true over the well-defined trail.
He drew a deep breath and cried: "The winner pays, and I'm the winner, ain't I? Surge up, you-all Malemutes and Siwashes, and name your poison! There's your Dyea mail, straight from Salt Water, and no hornswogglin about it! Cast the lashings adrift, you-all, and wade into it!"
Bernard, valiantly defending her front stoop, was downed by a foraging party of trail-starved Malemutes. He was buried beneath the hirsute mass for about thirty seconds, when rescued by a couple of axes and as many stout men.
This was the favourite trick of the wolf breeds to rush in upon him, either directly or with an unexpected swerve, in the hope of striking his shoulder and overthrowing him. Mackenzie hounds, Eskimo and Labrador dogs, huskies and Malemutes all tried it on him, and all failed. He was never known to lose his footing.
"It will thaw very soon," he said to himself, looking again at the dead man, "and then he will go into the lake." He headed his Malemutes back to the forest. Then he ran out and cut the traces of the exhausted huskies, and with his whip scattered them in freedom over the ice. "Go to the wolves!" he shouted in Cree.
In this settlement were white traders, as well as missionaries and numbers of Eskimos, it being an old port of considerable importance. In the cold grey morning light Punni Churah and the men called to the malemutes, patting their furry heads and talking kindly to them, for many a weary, long mile of snow trail stretched northward for them that day before they could rest and eat.
In a single leap he was at the side of the sledge, throwing off the furs and bundles and all other objects except his rifle. "He is dead, Iowaka. Look at the purple and black in his face. It is Jean de Gravois who will catch the murderer, and you will stay here and make yourself a camp. Hi-o-o-o-o!" he shouted to the Malemutes.
This is Captain, who leads my sledge team. Isn't he magnificent?" "Good God!" breathed Philip, looking about him. "I know something of sledge-dogs, Josephine. These are not from mongrel breeds. There are no hounds, no malemutes, none of the soft-footed breeds here. They are WOLF!" She rose and stood beside him, panting, triumphant, glorious. "Yes they've all got the strain of wolf," she said.
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