The Winnipeg Wolf 
cup at a single gulp, and break the glass—but 
he left a deathless name. 
Who can look into the mind of the Wolf? 
Who can show us his wellspring of motive? 
Why should he still cling to a place of endless 
tribulation? It could not be because he knew 
no other country, for the region is limitless, 
food is everywhere, and he was known at least 
as far as Selkirk. Nor could his motive be re- 
venge. No animal will give up its whole life 
to seeking revenge; that evil kind of mind is 
found in manalone. ‘The brute creation seeks 
for peace. 
There is then but one remaining bond to 
chain him, and that the strongest claim that 
anything can own—the mightiest force on earth. 
The Wolf is gone. The last relic of him 
was lost in the burning Grammar School, but 
to this day the sexton of St. Boniface Church 
avers that the tolling bell on Christmas Eve 
never fails to provoke that weird and melan- 
choly Wolf-cry from the wooded graveyard a 
hundred steps away, where they laid his Little 
Jim, the only being on earth that ever met him 
with the touch of love. 
