The head of the triangle became a death-trap.

All through the night the southern sky was filled with a lurid glow, and by morning the heat and smoke and ash were suffocating.
Panic-striken, Kazan searched vainly for a means of escape.

Not for an instant did he leave Gray Wolf.

It would have been easy for him to swim across either of the two streams, for he was three-quarters dog.

But at the first touch of water on her paws, Gray Wolf drew back, shrinking.
Like all her breed, she would face fire and death before water.