with his bow and arrows, Mooka with a little 

 bag containing a loaf and a few dried cap- 

 lin, — peering under every brush pile for the 

 shining eyes of a rabbit, and picking up 

 one big grouse and a few ptarmigan among 

 the bowlders of a great bare hillside. On 

 the edges of the great barren under the Top 

 Gallants they found the fresh tracks of feed- 

 ing caribou, and were following eagerly when 

 they ran plump into the wolf trail. 



Now by every law of the chase the game 

 belonged to these earlier hunters ; and by 

 every power in their gaunt, famished bodies 

 the wolves meant to have it. So said the 

 trail. Every stealthy advance in single file 

 across the open, every swift rush over the hol- 

 lows that might hide them from eyes watch- 

 ing back from the distant woods, showed 

 the wolves' purpose clear as daylight; and 

 had Noel been wiser he would have read a 

 warning from the snow and turned aside. 

 But he only drew his longest, keenest arrow 

 and pressed on more eagerly than before. 



The two trails had crossed each other at 

 last. Beginning near together, one on the "jj^l 



149 



Trails fftaf Cross 



^^W 

 S^B 



^> 



