time, shivering a little in spite of himself. He
was not afraid. But he was deeply stirred. Something in him answered to
the wolf voices. Kiopo's uneasiness had communicated itself to him also.
He could not explain it. He felt as if he were inside Kiopo's mind;
rather, that they shared one mind, and that the soul of the wolf-world
was calling to it.

With one accord, they set off in the direction of the cries.

The sound came from the eastward. But, owing to the broken nature of the
country, it seemed sometimes to come from every side at once. In that
hollow land, full of echoes, the ears were not always the safest guides.
But Kiopo did not travel by ear alone. His nose quested the distances.
It met the things that went walking in the wind. And surer even than his
nose was the Wisdom of the Wild Things, which was an extra sense to him,
and which mankind has put to sleep with its making of machines. So he
trotted steadily east without being bewildered by the echoes, and Dusty
Star followed, confident in his lead.

They came at last to the foot of a big butte, which Kiopo immediately
began to ascend. The cries were very clear now. The moonlit air was
filled with a chorus of high-pitched, vibrating sounds. As they climbed,
Dusty Star noticed that they did not mount alone. He counted no fewer
than four other wolves, besides Kiopo, moving swiftly up the hill. If he
saw them, Kiopo paid no attention. Even when one of them drew a little
closer than the others, he did not attempt to drive it off. And the low
growl that rumbled in his throat seemed a recognition rather than a
threat.

At the top of the hill, they came upon a wide, open space. Dusty Star
saw to his wonder that it was crowded with wolves. They formed a wide,
irregular circle, composed of single animals, and of little groups of
five or six. In the centre of the circle sat a large wolf by himself.
The remarkable thing about him was not his size, but his colour, which
was pure white. With the moonlight full upon him, it almost seemed as if
his coat itself gave out light.

As soon as Dusty Star and Kiopo joined the circle, the howling suddenly
ceased. The wolves were uneasy. It was plain that they regarded the
newcomers with suspicion, if not with enmity. Kiopo would have passed
muster, but his companion was certainly anything but a wolf. One or two
of the nearer wolves raised their hackles and growled. The rest
maintained a grim silence. And the silence was not