long the edges of the barrens
where the caribou herds were gathering, he would hear the challenge of a
huge stag and the warning crack of twigs and the thunder of hoofs as the
brute charged. Still the wolf trotted quietly along, watching from the
corners of his eyes till the stag was upon him, when he sprang lightly
aside and let the rush go harmlessly by. Sitting on his tail he would
watch the caribou closely--and who could tell what was passing behind
those cunning eyes that glowed steadily like coals, unruffled as yet by
the passing winds, but ready at a rough breath to break out in flames of
fire? Again and again the stag would charge, growing more furious at
every failure; and every time the wolf leaped aside he left a terrible
gash in his enemy's neck or side, punishing him cruelly for his bullying
attack, yet strangely refusing to kill, as he might have done, or to
close on the hamstring with one swift snap that would have put the big
brute out of the fight forever. At last, knowing perhaps from past
experience the uselessness of punishing or of disputing with this madman
that felt no wounds in his rage, the wolf would lope away to cover,
followed by a victorious bugle-cry that rang over the wide barren and
echoed back from the mountain side. Then the wolf would circle back
stealthily and put his nose down into the stag's hoof-marks for a long,
deep sniff, and go quietly on his way again. A wolf's nose never
forgets. When he finds that trail wandering with a score of others over
the snow, in the bitter days to come when the pack are starving,
Wayeeses will know whom he is following.

Besides the caribou there were other things to rouse the cubs' curiosity
and give them something pleasant to do besides eating and sleeping. When
the hunter's moon rose full and clear over the woods, filling all
animals with strange unrest, the pack would circle the great harbor,
trotting silently along, nose to tail in single file, keeping on the
high ridge of mountains and looking like a distant train of husky dogs
against the moonlight. When over the fishing village they would sit
down, each one on the loftiest rock he could find, raise their muzzles
to the stars, and join in the long howl, _Ooooooo-wow-ow-ow!_ a
terrible, wailing cry that seemed to drive every dog within hearing
stark crazy. Out of the village lanes far below they rushed headlong,
and sitting on the beach in a wide circle, heads all in and tails out,
they raised