The flashes of light that accompanied the apparition, while
illuminating all nearby objects, had left it shrouded in darkness, and
only when it crouched for an instant above the fire did Cabot gain a
clear glimpse of the gigantic form. To his dismay it appeared to be a
great beast with a human resemblance. It had the gleaming teeth, the
horrid jaws, the sharp ears, in fact the face and head of a wolf, the
tawny mane of a lion, and was covered with thick fur; but it stood
erect and used its arms like a man. At the same time, the sounds
issuing from its throat seemed a combination of incoherent human cries
and wolfish howlings. Cabot only saw it for a moment, and then it was
gone, leaping up the pathway, whirling the blazing timber above its
head, and darting its mysterious lightning flashes after the flying
Indians.
As the clamour of flight and pursuit died away, to be followed by a
profound silence, there came a muffled call:
"Cabot. Cabot Grant."
"Hello!" shouted our lad. "Who is it? Where are you?"
"It is I, White," came the barely heard answer. "I am here in the
cabin. Can't you come and let me out?"
"No," replied Cabot. "I am tied hand and foot."
"So am I. Are you wounded?"
"No. Are you?"
"No. What are the Indians doing?"
"Running for dear life from a Labrador devil--half wolf and half
man--armed with soundless thunder-bolts.
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