The pony was now coursing up and down the slopes, doubling like a hare, instinctively avoiding the canyon where he would be cornered.

He was mad with terror at the huge brutes that were silently but with awful and sure swiftness running him down.
The girl on the pinto whistled shrilly, and called to her dogs: "Down, Wolf! Back, Loo!" but, running low, with long, stretched bodies, they heeded not, but sped on, ever gaining upon the pony that now circled toward the pinto.

As they drew near in their circling, the girl urged her pinto to meet them, loosening her lariat as she went.

As the pony neared the pinto he slackened his speed; immediately the nearer dog gathered herself in two short jumps and sprang for the pony's throat.
But, even as she sprang, the lariat whirled round the girl's head and fell swift and sure about the dog's neck, and next moment she lay choking upon the prairie.

Her mate paused, looked back, and gave up the chase.