"
Poor Baldy resisted, but he was in the hands of his friends, so that
his resistance was of necessity less violent than he could have wished;
and in spite of his opposition he was tied in the bag, and gently lifted
upon the sled.
After thoughtful consideration, "Scotty" placed Irish and Rover at the
head of the team. "They're good dogs; mighty good dogs, but they're not
used to the grind like Baldy."
He took his place at the handle-bars. "I'll try my hardest, boys, but
every chance is against me now."
Before he could give the word to the new leaders, there was the sound of
gnawing, and the quick rending of cloth. He turned to see Baldy's head
emerge from the bag, his eyes blazing with determination and his sharp
fangs tearing the fastenings apart, and the hide to shreds.
"Baldy," he called; but Baldy threw himself from the sled with evident
pain, but in a frenzy of haste.
With intense amazement they watched him drag himself, with the utmost
difficulty, out of the sled, and up to the front of the team.
He paused a moment, and then by a supreme effort started off, expecting
the others to follow. There was no response to his desperate
appeal--for they were not used to Baldy as a loose leader. Again he came
back, and again endeavored to induce his team-mates to go with him down
the trail, but in vain; they waited a word from their master.
The men stood speechless; and the dog, whimpering pitifully, crept close
to Allan and looking up into his face reproachfully seemed to beg to be
restored to his rightful place, and tried to show him that just so long
as there was life in Baldy's body, "Scotty" would have a leader.
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