eeless country
which few care to penetrate during the snows of winter. Nothing moved in
all its white expanse and the silence of death hung over it. Yet without
hesitation the white wolf trotted out upon it and the pack followed,
only a few hanging back in the shelter of the pines.

Ten minutes later the faith of the pack in their leader was justified.
Not far away a gray blur drifted across their path and vanished, hidden
by the curtain of snow which had begun to fall. It was a caribou herd,
that drifting band which in midwinter is at once the hope and the
despair of the larger flesh-eating animals. Wandering as they do at
will, none can foretell their movements; yet the white wolf had led his
pack unerringly through mile after mile of snowy forest, straight to the
path of the herd.

The sight brought fresh courage to the famished wolves and they did not
stop to question the wisdom or the instinct which had led them. They
soon overtook the herd, but instead of charging into it, a proceeding
which would have caused the caribou to bolt at a pace that would have
left the wolves hopelessly behind, they followed silently and with
apparent indifference. Nevertheless they kept a close watch upon the
deer, singling out one who had been wounded before, and was showing
signs of weakening. This animal soon lagged and was cunningly separated
from the herd, thus falling an easy prey to the wolves. Another was
treated in the same manner before the savage appetites were satisfied
and the wolves turned back to the woods.

For a time good fortune seemed to travel with the pack, but, as February
dragged by and gave place to March, the most bitter month of all in the
wilderness, the wolves once more grew gaunt and famished. This time the
white wolf led them, not to the far north, but to the south in the
direction of the settlements.

Late afternoon of a bitter March day found Dave Lansing, hunter and
trapper, returning from a trip to the nearest town after supplies. He
was plodding along the snowy trail, his eyes upon the ground and his
thoughts far afield, when a distant, long-drawn howl caused him to
raise his head. Dave knew that howl. It was the call of a wolf and,
though armed, it filled him with uneasiness. He did not believe that the
wolves would attack a man in daylight, but night was coming rapidly and
he was some miles from his cabin. For a moment he considered turning
back and spending the night with the Hermit, but his he