That was the way wolves fought, striking and leaping away. But there was more to it than this. Thirty or forty huskies ran to the spot and surrounded the fighters in an intent and silent circle. Buck did not understand that silent intentness, nor the eager way with which they were licking their chops. Curly rushed her enemy, who struck again and leaped aside. He met her next rush with his chest, and tumbled her off her feet. She never regained them, This was what the other huskies had waited for. They closed in upon her, snarling and yelping, and she was buried, screaming with agony, beneath the mass of bodies.
It happened so suddenly, and so unexpectedly, that Buck was taken aback. He saw @Spitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing. He saw @Francois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men with clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two minutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were clubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled snow, almost literally torn to pieces.
