Now and then, when he had run until his endurance was gone, Wabigoon would fling himself upon the sledge to regain breath and rest his limbs, and the dogs would tug harder, scarce slackening their speed under the increased weight.

Once a huge moose crashed through the forest a hundred paces away, but the huskies paid no attention to it; a little farther on a lynx, aroused from his sun bath on a rock, rolled like a great gray ball across the trail,--the dogs cringed but for an instant at the sight of this mortal enemy of theirs, and then went on.
Slower and slower grew the pace.

The rearmost dog was now no more than a drag, and reaching a keen-edged knife far out over the end of the sledge Wabi severed his breast strap and the exhausted animal rolled out free beside the trail.

Two others of the team were pulling scarce a pound, another was running lame, and the trail behind was spotted with pads of blood.

Each minute added to the despair that was growing in the youth's face.