Kragf, the Kootenay Ram 



her loins, and on each side was a dark stain on 

 her coat. She craved a cooling tcuch, and on 

 reaching the white patch sank on her side, her 

 wound against the snow. 



There could be only one end to such a 

 wound : two hours, three hours at furthest, and 

 then — well, never mind. 



And the little one? He stood dumbly gaz- 

 ing at her. He did not understand. He only 

 knew that he was cold and hungry now, and 

 that his mother, to whom he had looked for 

 everything, — food, warmth, guidance, and sym- 

 pathy, — was so cold and still! 



He did not understand it. He did not know 

 what next. But we do — the lingering misery, 

 and the inevitable finish, soon or late, accord- 

 ing to his strength ; and the Raven on the rock 

 knew, and waited. Better for the Lamb, far 

 better, quicker, and more merciful, had the 

 rifle served him as it did his mother. 



XI 



Krag was a fine young Ram now, taller than 

 any of the Ewes, and with long cimetars of 



57 



