An inch deeper, and they would have pierced his jugular.

Kazan knew this, as he crunched his enemy's shoulder-bone, and every instant--even in their fiercest struggling--he was guarding against a second and more successful lunge of those powerful jaws.
At last the lunge came, and quicker than the wolf itself Kazan freed himself and leaped back.

His chest dripped blood, but he did not feel the hurt.

They began slowly to circle, and now the watching sledge-dogs drew a step or two nearer, and their jaws drooled nervously and their red eyes glared as they waited for the fatal moment.

Their eyes were on the big husky.