is back, heading
swiftly for the little hut under the cliff, where he burrowed for the
night as snug as a bear in his den. An old wolf would have known
instantly the danger, for man alone bites at a distance; but the
lop-eared cub, which was larger than his brother and therefore the
leader, raised his head for the hunting cry. The first yap had hardly
left his throat when the thunder roared, and something seared the wolf's
side like a hot iron. The cubs vanished like the smoke from the old gun.
Then the Indian came swiftly back on the trail, peering about with hawk
eyes to see the effect of his shot.

"By cosh! miss um dat time. Mus' be powder no good." Then, as he read
the plain record in the snow, "One,--by cosh! two hwulf, lil fool hwulf,
follow my footin'. Mus' be more, come soon pretty quick now; else he
don' howl dat way. Guess mebbe ol' Injun better stay in house nights."
And he trailed warily back to hide himself behind a rock and watch till
dark in front of his little _commoosie_.

Old Tomah's sleep was sound as usual that night; so he could not see the
five shadows that stole out of the woods, nor hear the light footfalls
that circled his camp, nor feel the breath, soft as an eddy of wind in a
spruce top, that whiffed at the crack under his door and drifted away
again. Next morning he saw the tracks and understood them; and as he
trailed away through the still woods he was wondering, in his silent
Indian way, why an old wolf should always bring Malsunsis, the cub, for
a good look and a sniff at anything that he is to avoid ever after.

When all else fails follow the caribou,--that is the law which governs
the wolf in the hungry days; but before they crossed the mountains and
followed the long valleys to the far southern ranges the wolves went
back to the hills, where the trail began, for a more exciting and
dangerous kind of hunting. The pack had held closer together of late;
for the old wolves must often share even a scant fox or rabbit with the
hungry and inexperienced youngsters. Now, when famine drove them to the
very doors of the one enemy to be feared, only the wisest and wariest
old wolf was fit to lead the foray.

The little fishing village was buried under drifts and almost deserted.
A few men lingered to watch the boats and houses; but the families had
all gone inland to the winter tilts for wood and shelter. By night the
wolves would come stealthily to prowl among the deserted lanes; and the
fis