There were eight or ten of them in sight and they were only a few yards away from the youth when he first saw them. But instantly Mark dropped to one knee to steady himself, put the rifle to his shoulder, and opened fire. Four shots he placed in quick succession. Two of the wolves rolled over and over upon the ice, and a third limped off after the remainder, who darted behind the ice-block again. Mark leaped up, uttering a shout of triumph, and followed them, believing that he had beaten the pack thus easily. But the moment he came around the obstruction he found himself in the midst of the actual pack. He was not charged by a dozen of the fierce creatures, but by more than half a hundred. The wolves had raided the cache already, having torn away the blocks of ice, and were feasting on the half-frozen bear meat. Mark did not think at that moment of driving them away, however; he wanted to get away himself. His shots had aroused the camp, although he was some distance from it. But when his friends ran out upon the ice they did not see him, and nobody for the minute suspected what had happened or where the youth had gone. The two bodies of the wolves were not at first sighted. Mark did not have a chance to use his rifle again. The wolves seemed to rush him from all sides, and a huge gray fellow leaped against him, knocking the rifle from the lad's grasp and rolling him over and over, half stunned, upon the ice. By marvelous good fortune none of the savage beasts followed him for the moment. The wounded wolf took up their attention. They pitched upon him and before Mark could rise to his feet the savage brutes had torn their wounded comrade limb from limb. The ice was stained crimson and their slobbering jaws ran blood. A more terrifying sight the youth had seldom seen. He could not reach his rifle, and the bulk of the pack was between him and the way he had come. He therefore leaped away in the other direction, running from instead of toward his friends. He passed through the thinning pack without being touched, although several of the beasts snapped at him and the clashing of their fangs sent cold chills up and down his spine. Then he leaped away at top speed across the ice. It was a natural move, but a very unwise one. The wolves tore their comrade to pieces and bolted the pieces in about sixty seconds. Then they wheeled en masse and shot off across the glacier after the boy. Mark ran about as fast as he had ever run before. Fortunately he had spurs in his boot-soles and therefore he did not slip on the ice. But suddenly he found that he was crossing a smooth sheet of new ice--the surface of a lake in the glacier. This lake had frozen after the sun went down and Mark felt the new ice bend under him as he ran. The moonlight revealed his path before him plainly; but the now yapping pack behind took up so much of his attention that Mark did not take a careful view of the surface of the thinly frozen lake.