ow!_ the terrible howl of a great white wolf
tumbled down on the husky dogs and set them howling as if possessed. No
doubt now of their queer actions which had puzzled me for hours past.
The wild wolf had called and the tame wolves waked to answer. Before my
dull ears had heard a rumor of it they were crazy with the excitement.
Now every chord in their wild hearts was twanging its thrilling answer
to the leader's summons, and my own heart awoke and thrilled as it never
did before to the call of a wild beast.

For an hour or more the old wolf sat there, challenging his degenerate
mates in every silence, calling the tame to be wild, the bound to be
free again, and listening gravely to the wailing answer of the dogs,
which refused with groanings, as if dragging themselves away from
overmastering temptation. Then the shadow vanished from the big rock on
the mountain, the huskies fled away wildly from the shore, and only the
sob of the breakers broke the stillness.

That was my first (and Noel's last) shadowy glimpse of Wayeeses, the
huge white wolf which I had come a thousand miles over land and sea to
study. All over the Long Range of the northern peninsula I followed him,
guided sometimes by a rumor--a hunter's story or a postman's fright,
caught far inland in winter and huddling close by his fire with his dogs
through the long winter night--and again by a track on the shore of some
lonely, unnamed pond, or the sight of a herd of caribou flying wildly
from some unseen danger. Here is the white wolf's story, learned partly
from much watching and following his tracks alone, but more from Noel
the Indian hunter, in endless tramps over the hills and caribou marshes
and in long quiet talks in the firelight beside the salmon rivers.

_Where the Trail Begins_

From a cave in the rocks, on the unnamed mountains that tower over
Harbor Weal on the north and east, a huge mother wolf appeared,
stealthily, as all wolves come out of their dens. A pair of green eyes
glowed steadily like coals deep within the dark entrance; a massive gray
head rested unseen against the lichens of a gray rock; then the whole
gaunt body glided like a passing cloud shadow into the June sunshine and
was lost in a cleft of the rocks.

There, in the deep shadow where no eye might notice the movement, the
old wolf shook off the delicious sleepiness that still lingered in all
her big muscles. First she spread her slender fore paws, working the
toes till