252 MOOSWA 



dead Train-dogs has angered the Hunt-man. 

 Slip off to your Pack now,&quot; he continued, as they 

 trailed through the little clearing surrounding the 

 Shack. &quot; Get Umisk to fix up your foot as he 

 did Black King s.&quot; 



&quot; And you ? &quot; queried Blue Wolf. 



&quot; I stop here ! &quot; the other answered, swaying as 

 he stood in his tracks for a second. 



&quot; Come with me,&quot; pleaded Rof ; &quot; my Pack 

 shall turn back the Hunters.&quot; 



&quot; Here they come off to the Woods ! &quot; 

 Mooswa answered, going himself to the Shack 

 door and rattling his horns against the boards. 

 The noise wakened Whisky-Jack, who had curled 

 up for his night s sleep under the eave. 



&quot; Thieves ! Hello, Mooswa ! &quot; he piped, 

 craning his neck around the corner, and seeing 

 the big horned head. 



Inside a faint querulous voice asked im 

 patiently, &quot; Is that you, Fra^ois, or is it the 

 angels with wood ? If it is, throw it down the 

 chimney, please I m too sick to get up.&quot; 



Mooswa &quot; whuffed,&quot; blowing the wind through 

 his blood-coated nostrils with a sound The Boy 

 knew, and scraped his horn up and down the 

 door again. There was a muffled, slipping noise 

 of some one crawling to the door. The bar 

 dropped, Mooswa pushed it gently open, stag- 



