turned toward him,-a wounded bird on the ground surely, and she
rushed forward. Sun and sand soon burn all trail-scents; there was
nothing to warn her. She sprang on the flopping bird and a chop of her
jaws ended his troubles, but a horrid sound--the gritting of her teeth
on steel--told her of peril. She dropped the Hawk and sprang backward
from the dangerous ground, but landed in the second trap. High on her
foot its death-grip closed, and leaping with all her strength, to
escape, she set her fore foot in another of the lurking grips of steel.
Never had a trap been so baited before. Never was she so unsuspicious.
Never was catch more sure. Fear and fury filled the old Wolf's heart;
she tugged and strained, she chewed the chains, she snarled and foamed.
One trap with its buried log, she might have dragged; with two, she was
helpless. Struggle as she might, it only worked those relentless jaws
more deeply into her feet. She snapped wildly at the air; she tore the
dead Hawk into shreds; she roared the short, barking roar of a crazy
Wolf. She bit at the traps, at her cub, at herself. She tore her legs
that were held; she gnawed in frenzy at her flank, she chopped off her
tail in her madness; she splintered all her teeth on the steel, and
filled her bleeding, foaming jaws with clay and sand.

She struggled till she fell, and writhed about or lay like dead, till
strong enough to rise and grind the chains again with her teeth.

And so the night passed by.

And Duskymane? Where was he? The feeling of the time when his
foster-mother had come home poisoned, now returned; but he was even
more afraid of her. She seemed filled with fighting hate. He held away
and whined a little; he slunk off and came back when she lay still,
only to retreat again, as she sprang forward, raging at him, and then
renewed her efforts at the traps. He did not understand it, but he knew
this much, she was in terrible trouble, and the cause seemed to be the
same as that which had scared them the night they had ventured near the
Calf.

Duskymane hung about all night, fearing to go near, not knowing what to
do, and helpless as his mother.

At dawn the next day a sheepherder seeking lost Sheep discovered her
from a neighboring hill. A signal mirror called the wolver from his
camp. Duskymane saw the new danger. He was a mere Cub, though so tall;
he could not face the man, and fled at his approach.

The wolver rode up to the sorry, tattered, bleeding S