The creeping figure changed.

It was not that of a wolf, but a warrior, intent upon his life.

A strange terror, the terror of the weird and unknown, seized him, but in an instant it passed, and he drew the bowstring.

When he loosed it the arrow stood deep in the wolf's throat, but Robert did not see it.

His eyes passed on like a flash of lightning to a gigantic form that upreared itself from the rocks, an enormous wolf with red eyes, glistening fangs and slavering jaws.
"Now!" shot forth Tayoga.
Robert had already fitted a second arrow to the string and the immense throat presented a target full and fair.