26 



fyftere ffte Trail 



infinite, with white clouds sailing over it like 

 swans on a limpid lake ; and one stood up on 

 his hind legs and reached up both paws, like 

 Y&**& a kitten, to pull down a cloud to play with. 

 Then the wind stirred a feather near them, 

 the white feather of a ptarmigan which they 

 had eaten yesterday, and forgetting the big 

 world and the sail and the cloud the cubs 

 took to playing with the feather, chasing and 

 worrying and tumbling over each other, while 

 the gaunt old mother wolf looked down from 

 her rock and watched and was satisfied. 



