They pull as if they were mad," said Miles breathlessly, while the dogs struggled and fought, nearly dragging him off his feet, as he tried to keep them from dashing away in pursuit of what they deemed a legitimate quarry.
Katherine swung a rope with a running noose over the head and shoulders of the leader, a huge white dog with a black patch on its back like a saddle.
"There, my fine fellow; now perhaps you will understand that this is not playtime, but a working day extending into the night," she said, as she patted the great beast in an affectionate manner to show that it was repression, not punishment, which was intended by the tightening of the rope.
The dog whined, licking her mitten, but left off struggling, as if it realized the uselessness of such a course.

The other dogs were fastened in like manner, for they had all been trained to hunt wolves, and might bolt at an unexpected moment, wrecking the sledge and scattering the things which were loaded upon it.

Then came ten minutes of hard work clearing away the snow and getting at the packages which Katherine had been obliged to cache a few hours before.

One package had been torn open, and its contents scattered, which showed that the wolf had already started thieving operations; so that even if Oily Dave and his companion had contemplated no raid on the cache, there would not have been much left later which was worth carrying away.
"I don't like you having to draw that sledge.

Suppose it overruns you, and you get hurt, like Father did this afternoon," Miles said in a troubled tone, as Katherine prepared to go forward with the hand sledge, while he followed behind with the dogs.
"I don't intend to let it overrun me, so there is no need to worry.
In fact there is much more danger for you if the dogs hear the wolves and try to bolt.