st a picture.

The wolf was dead. Its pack mates had fled into the brush, but since the
picture remained, Ross decided that the show was not yet over. He could
still hear a click of sound, and he waited for the next bit of action.
But the reason for his viewing it still eluded him.

A man came into view, crossing before Ross. He stooped to examine the
dead wolf, catching it by the tail and hoisting its hindquarters off the
ground. Comparing the beast's size with the hunter's, Ross saw that he
had not been wrong in his estimation of the animal's unusually large
dimensions. The man shouted over his shoulder, his words distinct
enough, but unintelligible to Ross.

The stranger was oddly dressed--too lightly dressed if one judged the
climate by the frequent snow patches and the biting cold. A strip of
coarse cloth, extending from his armpit to about four inches above the
knee, was wound about his body and pulled in at the waist by a belt. The
belt, far more ornate than the cumbersome wrapping, was made of many
small chains linking metal plates and supported a long dagger which
hung straight in front. The man also wore a round blue cloak, now swept
back on his shoulders to free his bare arms, which was fastened by a
large pin under his chin. His footgear, which extended above his calves,
was made of animal hide, still bearing patches of shaggy hair. His face
was beardless, though a shadowy line along his chin suggested that he
had not shaved that particular day. A fur cap concealed most of his
dark-brown hair.

Was he an Indian? No, for although his skin was tanned, it was as fair
as Ross's under that weathering. And his clothing did not resemble any
Indian apparel Ross had ever seen. Yet, in spite of his primitive
trappings, the man had such an aura of authority, of self-confidence,
and competence that it was clear he was top dog in his own section of
the world.

Soon another man, dressed much like the first, but with a rust-brown
cloak, came along, pulling behind him two very reluctant donkeys, whose
eyes rolled fearfully at sight of the dead wolf. Both animals wore packs
lashed on their backs by ropes of twisted hide. Then another man came
along, with another brace of donkeys. Finally, a fourth man, wearing
skins for covering and with a mat of beard on his cheeks and chin,
appeared. His uncovered head, a bush of uncombed flaxen hair, shone
whitish as he knelt beside the dead beast, a knife with a dull-gray
blade in