In this manner a dozen or more unsuccessful casts were made.
At last Ted got tired of the hide-and-seek game, and determined to end
it.
"I'm going to get him this time," he shouted, gathering his rope firmly.
"Back me up!"
He dashed at White Fang, with Bud and Stella on either side of him.
Swinging his rope about his head, Ted watched his opportunity.
Suddenly the loop left his hand and shot as unerringly toward the wolf
as if it had left the muzzle of a rifle.
It soared through the air like a thing of life, twisting as gracefully
and sinuously as a serpent. For an instant the wide loop hovered over
the gray, swiftly running animal. Then it fell suddenly, and settled
over and around the seemingly doomed animal.
But White Fang, king of the pack, was too old a villain to be caught so
easily. He leaped through the loop of Ted's lariat like a circus
performer through a hoop.
But Stella's rope whizzed through the air and caught the old fellow
unawares.
Then it seemed as if all the forces of wild nature had been turned
loose.
The wolf leaped into the air as he felt the rope tighten around his
neck, and threw himself here and there with a violence inconceivable,
snapping at the rope and trying to sever it. But Stella's lariat was of
Mexican rawhide, and even White Fang's sharp teeth had no effect on it.
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