ted the dark shape that lay on the
sand-spit, motionless as a log. Log-like though it appeared, there was
something about its dusky bulk that, to their wary gaze, looked
remarkably like a wolf asleep, or possibly even dead. But even a dead
wolf is not beloved by the wilderness folk; and a buck who had pushed
his way warily through the willow shoots to drink, when he saw the
sinister form on the sand-spit, stopped, threw up his head suspiciously,
and blew his breath angrily from his nostrils. The wolf never stirred.
The buck looked longingly at the water, looked again at the shape on the
sand-spit, drew back softly into the shelter of the willows, and went to
quench his thirst elsewhere.

The buck had scarcely disappeared, when a fox, also thirsty, came down
the trail, placing his slender feet delicately one after the other so as
not to disturb the slumber of the afternoon. When he caught sight of the
sand-spit, he stopped instantly, and wrinkled his nose to feel the wind.
As the wind did not help him, he advanced a few steps further with
extreme caution, ready at the slightest warning to leap back upon his
trail. He observed that the great body was stretched out flat as if
lifeless; the head resting between the paws. But there is flatness _and_
flatness. The fox noted with disapproval that this particular flatness
_breathed_! Drawing back his lips, he disclosed his teeth in a low snarl
of hatred against the hereditary foe of his tribe. Then he doubled his
flexible body till his nose nearly touched his brush, and slunk back
into the woods.

Totally unconscious of all these happenings, Kiopo took his rest. The
forest-folk might come and go as they pleased. Hour after hour he slept
that heavy sleep of sheer exhaustion through which no messages pass from
the outer world. The sun blazed down upon the sand-spit, drying his
coat; and sleep, that marvellous medicine to which all the wild things
turn, brought his strength slowly back to him in the waning afternoon.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW KIOPO FOUGHT THE LYNX

When at length he opened his eyes, the sun had sunk below the hills. He
rose slowly to his feet. He was so stiff that, when he stretched and
shook himself, he gave a little yelp of pain. Then he sat down on his
haunches and considered. On three sides of him stretched the lake; on
the fourth, the forest, darkening in the evening gloom. Somewhere far
out in the lake, a fish leaped with a splash. Kiopo turned his he