She knew those beings in the boat could have but one object--the slaughter, or at least the theft, of her little one.

She swam frantically, her great muscles heaving as she shouldered the waves apart.

But in that race she was hopelessly beaten from the first.
"The boat reached the raft, bumped hard upon it--and the baby's mother leaped out while the man, with his boathook, held the two craft close together.

The woman, thrusting the cub angrily aside, clutched the baby hysterically to her breast, sobbing over her and muttering strange threats of what she would do to her when she got her home to punish her for giving so much trouble.

The baby did not seem in the least disturbed by these threats--to which the man in the boat was listening with a grin--but when her mother started to carry her to the boat she reached out her arms rebelliously for the cub.
"'Won't go wivout my Teddy Bear,' she announced with tearful decision.
"'Ye'd better git a move on, Mrs.Murdoch,' admonished the man in the boat, 'Here's the old b'ar comin' after her young un, an' I've a notion she ain't exactly ca'm.' "The woman hesitated.