CHAPTER SIXTEEN
That same night, ten miles to the west, Miki slept under a windfall oflogs and treetops not more than half a mile from Le Beau's trapline.
In the early dawn, when Le Beau left his cabin, accompanied by Netah,The Killer, Miki came out from under his windfall after a night oftroublous dreams. He had dreamed of those first weeks after he had losthis master, when Neewa was always at his side; and the visions that hadcome to him filled him with an uneasiness and a loneliness that madehim whine as he stood watching the dark shadows fading away before thecoming of day. Could Le Beau have seen him there, as the first of thecold sun struck upon him, the words which he had repeated over and overto The Killer would have stuck in his throat. For at eleven months ofage Miki was a young giant of his breed. He weighed sixty pounds, andnone of that sixty was fat. His body was as slim and as lean as awolf's. His chest was massive, and over it the muscles rolled likeBABICHE cord when he moved. His legs were like the legs of Hela, thebig Mackenzie hound who was his father; and with his jaws he couldcrack a caribou bone as Le Beau might have cracked it with a stone. Foreight of the eleven months of his life the wilderness had been hismaster; it had tempered him to the hardness of living steel; it hadwrought him without abeyance to age in the mould of its pitilessschooling--had taught him to fight for his life, to kill that he mightlive, and to use his brain before he used his jaws. He was as powerfulas Netah, The Killer, who was twice his age, and with his strength hepossessed a cunning and a quickness which The Killer would never know.Thus had the raw wilderness prepared him for this day.
As the sun fired up the forest with a cold flame Miki set off indirection of Le Beau's trapline. He came to where Le Beau had passedyesterday and sniffed suspiciously of the man-smell that was stillstrong in the snowshoe tracks. He had become accustomed to this smell,but he had not lost his suspicion of it. It was repugnant to him, evenas it fascinated him. It filled him with an inexplicable fear, and yethe found himself powerless to run away from it. Three times in the lastten days he had seen the man-brute himself. Once he had been hidingwithin a dozen yards of Le Beau when he passed.
This morning he headed straight for the swamp through which Le Beau'straps were set. There the rabbits were thickest and it was in the swampthat they most frequently got in Jacques's KEKEKS--the little houses hebuilt of sticks and cedar boughs to keep the snow off his baits. Theywere so numerous that they were a pest, and each time that Le Beau madehis trip over the line he found at least two out of every three trapssprung by them, and therefore made useless for the catching of fur.But, where there were many rabbits there were also fishers and lynx,and in spite of the rage which the plague of rabbits sent him into, LeBeau continued to set his traps there. And now, in addition to therabbits, he had the wild dog to contend with.
His heart was fired by a vengeful anticipation as he hurried on throughthe glow of the early sun, with The Killer at his heels, led by aBABICHE thong. Miki was nosing about the first trap-house as Netah andLe Beau entered the edge of the swamp, three miles to the east.
It was in this KEKEK that Miki had killed the fisher-cat the previousmorning. It was empty now. Even the bait-peg was gone, and there was nosign of a trap. A quarter of a mile farther on he came to a secondtrap-house, and this also was empty. He was a bit puzzled. And then hewent on to the third house. He stood for several minutes, sniffing theair still more suspiciously, before he drew close to it. The man-trackswere thicker here. The snow was beaten down with them, and the scent ofLe Beau was so strong in the air that for a space Miki believed he wasnear. Then he advanced so that he got a look into the door of thetrap-house. Squatted there, staring at him with big round eyes, was ahuge snowshoe rabbit. A premonition of danger held Miki back. It wassomething in the attitude of Wapoos, the old rabbit. He was not likethe others he had caught along Le Beau's line. He was not struggling ina trap; he was not stretched out, half frozen, and he was not danglingat the end of a snare. He was all furred up into a warm and comfortablelooking ball. As a matter of fact, Le Beau had caught him with hishands in a hollow log, and had tied him to the bait peg with a piece ofbuck-skin string; and after that, just out of Wapoos's reach, he hadset a nest of traps and covered them with snow.
Nearer and nearer to this menace drew Miki, in spite of theunaccountable impulse that warned him to keep back. Wapoos, fascinatedby his slow and deadly advance, made no movement, but sat as if frozeninto stone. Then Miki was at him. His powerful jaws closed with acrunch. In the same instant there came the angry snap of steel and afisher-trap closed on one of his hind feet. With a snarl he droppedWapoos and turned upon it, SNAP--SNAP--SNAP went three more ofJacques's nest of traps. Two of them missed. The third caught him by afront paw. As he had caught Wapoos, and as he had killed thefisher-cat, so now he seized this new and savage enemy between hisjaws. His fangs crunched on the cold steel; he literally tore it fromhis paw so that blood streamed forth and strained the snow red. Madlyhe twisted himself to get at his hind foot. On this foot thefisher-trap had secured a hold that was unbreakable. He ground itbetween his jaws until the blood ran from his mouth. He was fighting itwhen Le Beau came out from behind a clump of spruce twenty yards awaywith The Killer at his heels.
The Brute stopped. He was panting, and his eyes were aflame. Twohundred yards away he had heard the clinking of the trap-chain.
"OW! he is there," he gasped, tightening his hold on The Killer's leadthong. "He is there, Netah, you Red Eye! That is the robber devil youare to kill--almost. I will unfasten you, and then--GO TO!"
Miki, no longer fighting the trap, was eyeing them as they advanced. Inthis moment of peril he felt no fear of the man. In his veins the hotblood raged with a killing madness. The truth leapt upon him in a flashof instinctive awakening. These two were his enemies instead of thething on his foot--the man-beast, and Netah, The Killer. Heremembered--as if it were yesterday. This was not the first time he hadseen a man with a club in his hand. And Le Beau held a club. But he wasnot afraid. His steady eyes watched Netah. Unleashed by his master, TheKiller stood on stiff legs a dozen feet away, the wiry crest along hisspine erect, his muscles tense.
Miki heard the man-beast's voice.
"Go to, you devil! GO TO!"
Miki waited, without the quiver of a muscle. Thus much he had learnedof his hard lessons in the wilderness--to wait, and watch, and use hiscunning. He was flat on his belly, his nose between his forepaws. Hislips were drawn back a little, just a little; but he made no sound, andhis eyes were as steady as two points of flame. Le Beau stared. He feltsuddenly a new thrill, and it was not the thrill of his desire forvengeance. Never had he seen a lynx or a fox or a wolf in a trap likethat. Never had he seen a dog with eyes like the eyes that were onNetah. For a moment he held his breath.
Foot by foot, and then almost inch by inch, The Killer crept in. Tenfeet, eight, six--and all that time Miki made no move, never winked aneye. With a snarl like that of a tiger, Netah came at him.
What happened then was the most marvellous thing that Jacques Le Beauhad ever seen. So swiftly that his eyes could scarcely follow themovement, Miki had passed like a flash under the belly of Netah, andturning then at the end of his trap chain he was at The Killer's throatbefore Le Beau could have counted ten. They were down, and The Brutegripped the club in his hand and stared like one fascinated. He heardthe grinding crunch of jaws, and he knew they were the Wild Dog's jaws;he heard a snarl choking slowly into a wheezing sob of agony, and heknew that the sound came from The Eller. The blood rose into his face.The red fire in his eyes grew livid--a blaze of exultation, of triumph.
"TONNERRE DE DIEU! he is choking the life out of Netah!" he gasped."NON, I have never seen a dog like that. I will keep him alive; and heshall fight Durant's POOS over at Post Fort O' God! By the belly ofSaint Gris, I say--"
The Killer was as good as dead if left another minute. With upraisedclub Le Beau advanced. As he sank his fangs deeper into Netah's throatMiki saw the new danger out of the corner of his eye. He loosed hisjaws and
swung himself free of The Killer as the club descended. Heonly partly evaded the smashing blow, which caught him on the shoulderand knocked him down. Quick as a flash he was on his feet and hadlunged at Le Beau. The Frenchman was a master with the club. All hislife he had used it, and he brought it around in a sudden side-swingthat landed with terrific force against Miki's head. The blood spurtedfrom his mouth and nostrils. He was dazed and half blinded. He leaptagain, and the club caught him once more. He heard Le Beau's ferociouscry of joy. A third, a fourth, and a fifth time he went down under theclub, and Le Beau no longer laughed, but swung his weapon with a lookthat was half fear in his eyes. The sixth time the club missed, andMiki's jaws closed against The Brute's chest, ripping away the thickcoat and shirt as if they had been of paper, and leaving on Le Beau'sskin a bleeding gash. Ten inches more--a little better vision in hisblood-dimmed eyes--and he would have reached the man's throat. A greatcry rose out of Le Beau. For an instant he felt the appalling nearnessof death.
"Netah! Netah!" he cried, and swung the club wildly.
Netah did not respond. It may be that in this moment he sensed the factthat it was his master who had made him into a monster. About him wasthe wilderness, opening its doors of freedom. When Le Beau called againThe Killer was slinking away, dripping blood as he went--and this wasthe last that Le Beau saw of him. Probably he joined the wolves, forThe Killer was a quarter-strain wild.
Le Beau got no more than a glimpse of him as he disappeared. Hisclub-arm shot out again, a clean miss; and this time it was pure chancethat saved him. The trap-chain caught, and Miki fell back when his hotbreath was almost at The Brute's jugular. He fell upon his side. Beforehe could recover himself the club was pounding his head into the snow.The world grew black. He no longer had the power to move. Lying as ifdead he still heard over him the panting, exultant voice of theman-beast. For Le Beau, black though his heart was, could not keep backa prayerful cry of thankfulness that he was victor--and had misseddeath, though by a space no wider than the link of a chain.