146 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



upon its back. Instantly regaining its feet, it dashed away on 

 three legs, and in its effort to escape dragged the clog through 

 the snow. The bounding clog sent the snow flying, and the 

 hunter rushed in pursuit, while the wolf dodged among the 

 trees to escape a blow from Oo-koo-hoo. Then it bolted again, 

 and ran straight for a few yards until the clog caught and held 

 fast. The hunter, pressing on with raised axe, had no time to 

 draw back when the brute sprang for him as it did; luckily, 

 however, his aim was true: the back of the axe descended upon 

 the wolfs head, and it fell dead. This was fortunate for the 

 hunter, as unwarily he had allowed himself so to get between 

 the clog and the beast that the chain almost swung over his 

 snowshoes. If he had missed his aim, no doubt it would have 

 gone hard with him. 



A few slant rays of the sun penetrating the deep gloom of 

 the thick forest and reminding us that day was fast passing, 

 we decided to camp there for the night. So we cut a mattress 

 of brush, made a fire, and refreshed ourselves with supper before 

 we started to skin the wolf. 



THE WAYS OF A WOLF 



Talk of wolves prevailed all evening, and Oo-koo-hoo cer- 

 tainly had a store of information upon that subject. In ex- 

 pressing surprise that a wolf had strength enough to jerk about 

 a big drag-log, as though it were merely a small stick, he replied 

 that once when he had killed a full-grown bull-moose and 

 dressed and hung up the meat, he had left for camp with part of 

 his prize, but on returning again to the cache, he had found 

 a wolf moving off with one of the hindquarters. It must 

 have weighed close upon a hundred pounds. But perhaps, if 

 I quote Charles Mair, the strength and endurance of a wolf 

 will be better realized: "In the sketch of 'North- Western 

 America' (1868) Archbishop Tache, of St. Boniface, Manitoba, 



