At the sound of the whip, Skookum looked around in surprise, hesitated uncertainly for a moment, and seeing that the girl stood at the old man’s side, decided it was all right, and started. The other dogs, not hearing the sound of the familiar voice, did not move with the leader, and the result was a jerky, awkward start. A hundred yards down the trail, Skookum deliberately stopped stalk still and looked backwards. Again it was all right. The girl was mushing along beside the sled, and the leader started on as Gordon shouted his command to mush. On and on they plodded, and as Lou’s eyes rested upon her dogs she noted the listless, mechanical manner of their going--noted also that the tails showed an unwonted droop. “Can’t you see the difference, dad?” she asked at length, “They don’t know what to make of it. They haven’t got their hearts in their work.” Before the old man could reply, a sharp bend in the trail brought them face to face with a dog team. “Gee! Gee! Gee!” cried Gordon excitedly, cracking his whip close to Skookum’s ears. But instead of turning out for the oncoming team, the great leader lunged forward and snapped viciously at the lead dog of the other team. In an instant the two teams were at each other tooth and nail. Gordon and the other driver, sprang into the mêlée, striking right and left with the whips, and vainly trying to make themselves heard above the pandemonium of growls and snarls. An instant later a shrill whistle cut the air. The girl rushed to Skookum’s side, and grasping his collar repeated the whistle. Instantly the great dog drew away from his opponent and stood quivering, every hair a-bristle. The other driver managed to collar his own leader, and repeating the shrill whistle the girl snatched the whip from her father’s hand, and brought the lash down with stinging force upon the back of Kog, the fourth malamute from the sled. The blow had the desired effect. The four other huskies had stopped fighting when Skookum stopped, and the malamutes followed as Kog dropped upon his belly in the snow. Fortunately there had been little or no tangling of harness, as the dogs had been separated almost as soon as the fight began and a few moments later both outfits were once more strung out upon the trail. “Oh, dad, can’t you see, now?” cried the girl. “They’re not used to you. They don’t understand.” “They’re ill broke!” growled the old man, stubbornly. “They’re not!” exclaimed the girl, “They are the best broken dogs on the Koyukuk! Ask anybody.” “There’s no one on the river, that would hurt ye’re feelin’s by sayin’ aught against ye’re dogs, lass. But, ’tis no way for a leader to do, to fly at the throat of a passin’ lead dog.” “If he had been handled right Skookum would never have done it. Why did you think you had to yell ‘Gee’ three times and crack your whip right at Skookum’s ears?” “’Tis a trail of ample wideness to pass wi’ plenty room.”