He turned to see the
stallion plunging hither and thither, striking with his fore-hooves,
while around him, darting in and out under the driving feet, sprang
the great black wolf, his teeth clashing like steel on steel. In
another moment they might sink in the throat of the horse! Calder,
with an exclamation of horror, whipped out his revolver, but checked
himself at the very instant of firing. The master of the two animals
stood with arms folded, actually smiling upon the fight!
"For God's sake!" cried the marshal. "Shoot the damned wolf, man, or
he'll have your horse by the throat!"
"Leave 'em be," said Dan, without turning his head. "Satan an' Black
Bart ain't got any other dogs an' hosses to run around with. They's
jest playing a little by way of exercise."
Calder stood agape before what seemed the incarnate fury of the pair.
Then he noticed that those snapping fangs, however close they came,
always missed the flesh of the stallion, and the driving hoofs never
actually endangered the leaping wolf.
"Stop 'em!" he cried at last. "It makes me nervous to watch that sort
of play. It isn't natural!"
"All right," said Dan. "Stop it, boys."
He had not raised his voice, but they ceased their wild gambols
instantly, the stallion, with head thrown high and arched tail and
heaving sides, while the wolf, with lolling red tongue, strolled
calmly towards his master.
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