The Beast that dwells under every man’s skin, in a greater or less degree, was in the full ascendancy at last.  The unnamable ferocity that marks the death-leap of the wild hunters was in his face.  In his eyes was cunning,—­such craft as marks the pack in its hunting.  All over him was written that unearthly rage that is alone the property and trait of the woods creatures:  the fury with which a she-wolf fights for her cubs or a rattlesnake avenges the death of its mate.  Mercy, remorse, compassion there was none.

And the demon gods of the wilderness rejoiced.  For uncounted thousands of years the tide of battle had flowed against them; and it was long and long since they had won such a victory as this.  Mostly their men children had forsaken their leafy bowers to live in houses.  They tilled the ground rather than hunt in the forest.  The cattle that had once run wild in the marshes now fed dully in enclosed pastures; the horses—­that mighty breed that once mated and fought and died in freedom on the high lands—­pulled lowly burdens in the cultivated fields.  Even some of the canine people too—­first cousins to the wolves themselves—­had sold themselves into slavery for a gnawed bone and a chimney corner.  But to-night the wild had claimed its own again.

Here was one, at least, who had come back into his own.  The forest seemed to whisper and thrill with rapture.

PART TWO

THE WOLF-MAN

XVI

As a wolf might plan a hunt in the forest, Ben planned his war against Neilson and his subordinates.  He knew perfectly that he must not attempt open warfare.  The way of the wolf is the way of cunning and stealth:  the stalk through the thicket and the ferocious attack upon the unsuspecting; and such example must guide Ben in his operations.  He could not be too careful, too furtive.

His foes were three against one, and they were on their own ground.  They knew the trails and the lay of the country; and as always, in the science of warfare, this was an advantage hardly to be overcome.  Ben knew that his only hope lay in the finest strategy.  First he must make a surprise attack, and second, he must utilize all natural advantages.

He was well aware that he could lie in ambush, close to the mine, and probably send one man to a speedy death with a rifle bullet.  But he did not have one enemy; he had three.  The survivors of the first shot would immediately seek shelter—­probably returning shot for shot—­and that would insert an element of uncertainty into the venture.  At the distance he would be obliged to shoot, he would possibly only succeed in wounding one of his enemies, and he might miss him altogether.  Such a plan as this was wholly too uncertain for adoption.