aft taught him, without the slightest
uncertainty, that there had been no back trail. If, therefore, the trail
ended at the water, those who had made it must have gone _through_ the
water. There was no other way. Once he had made up his mind, Kiopo did
not hesitate. He plunged into the lake.

When once in the water, Kiopo, like all wolves, was a powerful swimmer;
but he had never before had any experience of such an immense expanse of
it. The further he went out, the wider it seemed to become. He swam on
and on. As he swam, the shores receded further and further on either
side. He found himself out in that whispering vastness, alone in a world
of waters, with no sign of any human being, nor the faintest trace of a
trail. After a while, he grew disheartened. The great water gave him a
sense of loneliness and fear which he had never felt before. In the dark
silences of the woods, you could smell the good smells of the travelling
folk, hunting or being hunted, which you could not even see. But here
there was no hunting, nor good smells; only a wet, uneasy movement, and
a watery smell which his growing fear made hateful to his nose. And the
sound of its wetness beat unceasingly on his ears like a din of
unintelligible voices bewildering his brain. The only living things that
he could see were two fish-hawks sailing overhead. In their annoyance at
his appearance, they gave piercing cries of disapproval; for they knew
well that no fish was likely to come to the surface while this great
hulk of wolfishness went churning up the water in that unwieldy way. And
if they had only dared, they would have swooped down to strike at him
savagely with the terrible talons which made their feet such formidable
weapons.

At last Kiopo grew tired of battling against that vast wetness, with its
loneliness, and voices that rang against his head; and so he turned and
swam straight towards the shore.

The distance was much further than he expected. He found himself
swimming more and more slowly. In spite of all his efforts the shore
seemed still very far away, while always that great weight of water
seemed to push itself continually in between him and the trees, as if it
were a living thing which had determined that he should never land. His
strength and power of endurance were enormous, even after they had been
weakened by his recent injuries; yet for the most powerful wild creature
there is a limit to its strength. And now Kiopo knew that hi