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44, 
The Winnipeg Wolf 
the river bank. He knew nothing about Jim- 
mie Hogan, and he was not a little puzzled to 
find Wolf tracks and signs along the river on 
both sides between St. Boniface and Fort 
Garry. He listened with interest and doubt 
to tales that the Hudson Bay Company’s men 
told of a great Gray-wolf that had come to 
live in the region about, and even to enter the 
town at night, and that was in particular at- 
tached to the woods about St. Boniface Church. 
On Christmas Eve of that year when the bell 
tolled again as it had done for Jimmie, a lone 
and melancholy howling from the woods al- 
most convinced Renaud that the stories were 
true. He knew the wolf-cries—the howl for 
help, the love song, the lonely wail, and the 
sharp defiance of the Wolves. This was the 
lonely wail. 
The trapper went to the riverside and gave 
an answering howl. A shadowy form left the 
far woods and crossed on the ice to where the 
man sat, log-still, on a log. It came up near 
him, circled past and sniffed, then its eye 
glowed; it growled like a Dog that is a little 
angry, and glided back into the night. 
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