ice clung to the rocks in fantastic knobs and 

 20 b 



TOhere ffie Trail § ar ^°y les ' makin & cold ' dee P p oo1s for the 



trout to play in. So it was both cool and 

 "5'*'^> warm there, and whatever the weather the 



gaunt old mother wolf could always find just 

 the right spot to sleep away the afternoon. 

 Best of all it was perfectly safe ; for though 

 from the door of her den she could look 

 down on the old Indian's cabin, like a pebble 

 on the shore, so steep were the billowing 

 hills and so impassable the ravines that no 

 human foot ever trod the place, not even in 

 autumn when the fishermen left their boats 

 at anchor in Harbor Weal and camped inland 

 on the paths of the big caribou herds. 



Whether or not the father wolf ever knew 

 where his cubs were hidden only he himself 

 could tell. He was an enormous brute, power- 

 ful and cunning beyond measure, that haunted 

 the lonely thickets and ponds bordering the 

 great caribou barrens over the ridge, and 

 that kept a silent watch, within howling dis- 

 tance, over the den which he never saw. 

 Sometimes the mother wolf met him on her 

 wanderings and they hunted together. Often 



