So terrific was her impact, that dogs and wolf rolled under the tent door in one snarling, fighting, snapping mass of legs and tails and squirming bodies.

Immediately from within rose a wild shriek of terror.
"Mercy sakes alive! What, what is this?
Help! Help! Help! Where are you all?
Will some one not come to my help ?" Kalman sprang from his horse, rushed forward, and lifted the tent door.

A new outcry greeted his ear.
"Get out, get out, you man!" He dropped the flap, fled aghast before the appalling vision of Aunt Janet in night attire, with a ring of curl-papers round her head, driven back into the corner of the tent, and crouched upon a box, her gown drawn tight about her, while she gazed in unspeakable horror at the whirling, fighting mass upon the tent floor at her feet.

Higher and higher rose her shrieks above the din of the fight.

From a neighbouring tent there rushed forth a portly, middle-aged gentleman in pyjamas, gun in hand.
"What is it, Katharine?
Where are you, Katharine ?" "Where am I?
Where but here, ye gowk! Oh, Robert! Robert! I shall be devoured alive." The stout gentleman ran to the door of the tent, lifted the flap, and plunged in.