LITTLE BULL OF THE BARRENS 185 



would vanish, as the snow again closed down 

 about them. 



It was the old bull alone who seemed to be 

 thoroughly on the alert. Hither and thither, 

 with a certain slow vigilance, he moved 

 through the herd. All at once he lifted 

 his head sharply and questioned the air with 

 dilating nostrils, while his eyes gleamed with 

 anger and anxiety. The next instant he 

 stamped his foot and gave a loud abrupt 

 call, half bleat, half bellow. 



Plainly it was a signal well understood. 

 In a second the whole herd was on its feet. 

 In another, with lightning precision, it had 

 formed itself into a compact circle, using the 

 watchful leader as the basic point of its for- 

 mation. The calves, butted unceremoniously 

 into the centre, hustled one upon the other, 

 with uplifted muzzles over each other's 

 shoulders and mild eyes staring with startled 

 fright. The outer rim of the circle became 

 a fringe of sullen lowering foreheads, angry 

 eyes and keen horns jutting formidably from 

 snow-powdered manes of dark hair. 



Not a member of the musk-ox herd, to the 

 youngest calf, but knew very well against 

 what enemy the old bull had so suddenly 

 marshalled them into fighting phalanx. For 

 some moments, however long, tense, vigil- 



