One only he saw,--a sleek gray fellow, flattened against a gray dead limb so that he seemed a part of it, a woody excrescence upon the wood itself.
As Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose was jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped and pulled it.

He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.
He was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow protruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.
A hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton had bought in Dawson.

This dog was thrashing about in a death-struggle, directly on the trail, and Buck passed around him without stopping.

From the camp came the faint sound of many voices, rising and falling in a sing-song chant.

Bellying forward to the edge of the clearing, he found Hans, lying on his face, feathered with arrows like a porcupine.