The wolf had seized hold of Captain's upper lip and was grimly hanging on, while Queen was gripping savagely for the beast's throat.

With his club Kalman struck the wolf a heavy blow, stunning it so that it released its hold on the dog.

Then, catching it by the hind leg, he hauled wolf and hounds out of the tent in one squirming mass.
"God help us!" cried the stout gentleman, darting into his own tent and poking his head out through the door.

"Keep the brute off.

There's my gun." The girl screamed and ran behind Kalman.