HIS FIRST WINTER 133 



panions had moved off down the yards in search of 

 the hard-to-find twigs and bark which grew scantier 

 with each frosty day. 



A dreary howl, long-drawn and sobbing, lashed 

 like a siren round the endless wastes, and on the 

 cow the effect was magical. 



Wolves I And in a quick, shambling trot the 

 ungainly beast disappeared behind a spruce laden 

 to falling with its weight of snow. 



Over the stainless waste a shy, swiftly moving 

 fox, one with the whitened landscape, crept on 

 dainty feet, shod for Arctic explorations with 

 mocassins of hair. He was starving. His larder, 

 where he had cached a small amount of food, had 

 been raided by a lynx, and hereabouts there were 

 no traps from which to try and steal the bait. 

 Time was 1 But those days were in other districts, 

 far distant from these unhunted regions. 



The near-by howl had told him that time was 

 too short for the usual preliminaries, the essential 

 strategies beloved of the foxes of the world. He 

 must rush in, grab what he could, and bolt for 

 cover. 



He rushed, grabbed nothing, and got back to 

 cover as the faint rustle of disparted snow gave 



